Let Me Fall
by DarkAngelElektra
Summary: He's the high flyer, she's the paparazzi princess. They shouldn't have anything to do with one another...so why can't they stay away from each other? Jeff/Melina pairing, also features Johnny Nitro, Maria, and others circa 2006.
1. Chapter 1: The Prodigal's Return

**A/N: I KNOW, the last thing I need to be doing is starting another story, but sometimes, the little voice in your head just won't shut up, even when you poke it with a Q-tip. To give this some context, I first got the idea for this story when I was writing my IPod Shuffle Challenge about Melina. So I put this idea up in a poll on my profile along with two others, and this is the one that came in first, so for those of you who voted, you got your wish! Also, if you want to read the song-fic that started this story, feel free to do so! It's a good read, I promise!**

**As I say every time, read, review, but more than anything, ENJOY! Peace!**

**A/A/N: This story takes place from August to December of 2006  
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**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing and no one in this story

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**Let Me Fall**

Chapter 1: The Prodigal's Return

_August 21, 2006_

He was never supposed to come back.

At least, that's what he'd told himself. But yet, somehow, against all his better judgment, Jeff Hardy found himself back in a WWE ring. By all rights, he should have felt grateful, or at the very least, nostalgic. But to Jeff, it was just another wrestling ring. That's all; just a ring. It didn't matter whether it had four sides or six—just so long as he could soar. To some Superstars, it was all about the gold, all about the prestige—but to the Rainbow-Haired Warrior, it had always been all about the feeling. No title belt could come close to the rush he felt as he flew…or fell.

Not that he was totally opposed to holding championship gold during his second run in WWE. He might be a daredevil, but Jeff Hardy was still there to win. He might be a little older and a little wiser, but he was still hungry for competition, ready to sink his teeth into whatever talent had sprung up on Raw during his absence. Maybe he wasn't ready to challenge for the WWE Championship _yet_, but he would start on the bottom, if that's what it took. Start on the bottom and work his way up; _prove_ to those guys in the comfy chairs who made all the decisions that the Charismatic Enigma could run with the big dogs.

Jeff walked down the hall away from the gorilla position, thinking about his recently ended first match back, grimacing as he did so. Edge—now _that_ had been starting at the bottom. It didn't matter that the Rated R Superstar (as he apparently called himself now) was now also the WWE Champion; as far as Jeff was concerned, ever since that whole situation with Lita and Matt, Edge was scum, plain and simple. Most likely, someone on high had wanted to stir up some of the old controversy surrounding the Rated R Era, and figured that one Hardy was as good as another. Well, it didn't work like that. Edge and Lita—they were Matt's business, not his, and WWE Championship aside, Jeff wanted no part of it.

Which brought him to the way the match had ended. People had been congratulating him on his victory ever since he'd stumbled backstage; he wanted to remind them all just how empty that victory was. A win by DQ—that didn't mean anything. He hadn't won; he'd just _survived_. The whole point of returning was to prove to everyone that he wasn't washed-up; that he could burn bright without burning out. And he couldn't do either by winning on a goddamn technicality.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior ground to a halt, closing his eyes and tilting his head up toward the ceiling. He clenched his fists at his sides, remembering the Swanton Bomb, recalling the roar of the fans and the rush of air and how good, _how good_, it felt to finally be back…

Someone bumped into him, almost hard enough to knock him over. Jeff's eyes flew open, and he staggered to the side. He heard a sliding sound, and looked down to see a mobile Sidekick skittering between his legs. The Charismatic Enigma did a weird side-step, crossing one leg over the other to avoid stepping on the device. He teetered for a moment, his arms pinwheeling back and forth. His equilibrium regained, he bent down, picking up the SideKick and staring at it for a moment in bewilderment.

"_Excuse me_!" Jeff almost winced at the female voice that grated on his ears. He did not envy the guy who had to wake up to _that_. He turned toward the source of the voice—then froze when he saw that it belonged to perhaps one of the prettiest girls that he'd ever seen.

She was short, probably only a few inches above five feet, and definitely Latina. Her long curly hair was a dark reddish-brown, except for her bangs, which were bleached a pale blonde. She was dressed all in brown, from her chocolate-colored crocheted top to her furry brown boots. She would have been gorgeous—if her face hadn't been twisted into an expression of arrogant irritation.

The mystery girl cleared her throat, holding out her hand palm up. Her nails were long and perfectly manicured. Jeff looked from her hand back up to her face. "Do you _mind_?" she snapped, and he realized that she was referring to the SideKick. Wordlessly, he held it out toward her, and she snatched it from his grasp, glaring at him as though expecting him to grab it right back and run like hell.

Wrapping her slender fingers around the mobile device (they looked more like talons, now that Jeff thought about it), the mystery girl crossed her arms over her chest, tapping her booted foot impatiently. Apparently, she found Jeff's reticence even more annoying. "Well?" she added, raising one eyebrow expectantly.

Jeff shot his eyes to the left, then to the right, wondering if he'd somehow missed part of the conversation. "Well…what?" he finally asked.

The mystery girl sighed, as though the answer was obvious and Jeff was slow. "_Well_…aren't you going to apologize for bumping into me?" she replied.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior felt an overwhelmingly urge to laugh, and he _did_ laugh, throwing his head back as he tried to regain control of himself. This girl was nothing more than a spoiled little princess, one who was accustomed to getting what she asked for. If it rained on her birthday, she probably would have taken it as a personal affront. Wiping tears from his eyes, he looked back at the mystery girl. His laughter must have pissed her off even more; steam was practically coming out of her ears. "_Apologize_?" he managed to get out between chuckles. "_You_ ran into _me_, remember?"

The mystery girl scowled; she must not have been used to having her logic questioned. "You—you—you _punk_!" she sputtered, an epithet, which made Jeff laugh even harder. "Don't you _know_ who my _boyfriend _is?"

Jeff shook his head, unable to answer. He felt like he was about to throw up; he was laughing so hard.

Once again, he had given her the wrong answer. The girl's face turned bright red. "You _will_!" she spat. "Wait 'til I tell him about this; he's going to kick your ass!"

"Good!" Jeff replied with some difficulty. God, he couldn't remember the last time he'd found a situation so _funny_! "I welcome the _competition_!" He broke down again on the last word, and had to bend over and put his hands on his knees. After several agonizing seconds, he was able to get himself back under control, and straightened up.

The mystery girl was still where he'd left her, peering at him critically. Something about the probing intensity of her gaze unnerved Jeff, and he felt compelled to comment. "What? What're you staring at now?"

The mystery girl looked back at him for a moment, and then her mouth curved up into a malicious smile. "_Nobody_," she cooed, poisoned sweetness dripping off her every word. Her eyes never left his. "_Nobody at all_."

Her icy calm was more terrifying than her rage a moment ago, and Jeff felt his grin fade. The girl's smile grew even wider; she must have been pleased with her handiwork. Waggling her fingers at him in a farewell, she mouthed "Bye!" before spinning smartly on her heel and continuing down the hall.

Jeff watched her depart, shaking his head. Girls like that…beautiful to look at, but God help the poor sap who got too close. And Jeff had been around long enough to know when it just wasn't worth getting your hand bitten off at the wrist. Still…it didn't hurt to look…and he would have been lying if he said that that girl—bitchy personality and all—didn't intrigue him.

The Charismatic Enigma looked down the now-deserted hallway, uttering the one question on his mind:

"Who _was _that?"


	2. Chapter 2: Harbored Doubts

**A/N: SORRY about the wait; I have had SUCH a week! Plus, this is my first Jeff Hardy story, and I have been so worried about screwing it up that I spent forever tweaking this chapter.**

**Thank you to **xxikababyxx, cherrycokerocks, Irshbeth, Writinglove101, Jyessie Abbey McMahon Hardy, **and **D. Torres **for reviewing the first chapter! Thank you for the support; you guys ROCK!

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Chapter 2: Harbored Doubts

Melina Perez stumbled into her hotel room, followed closely by her boyfriend, the Intercontinental Champion Johnny Nitro. Both of them were laughing; the sound of it just a little too malicious and a little too biting to be in mere amusement. Both of them were also slightly intoxicated.

Melina spun around in a slow circle, leaning forward and almost falling against Nitro as he approached her. She reached up and draped her arms around his neck, smiling at the Intercontinental Champion. "Can you _believe_ how ridiculous Mick sounded tonight?" she exclaimed, her strident voice holding only the faintest slur. "All that crap about wanting me to be the godmother to one of his snot-nosed brats—I almost started laughing right there in the ring!"

Nitro bent his head down, his breath hitting her face in a hot wave. Melina fought the urge to flinch and won. She and Johnny had been celebrating; it wasn't her fault that her boyfriend now smelled like a brewery. "What did he expect? That you and him were going to ride off into the sunset like one of those cheesy Westerns?"

Melina snorted, a low derisive sound. "Yeah, right; he would probably crush the horse." Both she and Nitro burst into scornful laughter at this thought. The Intercontinental Champion was the first to fall silent. He slowly trailed his thumb over her lower lip, his eyes drinking in the contours of her face.

"That loser never knew what hit him," he mused, his tone almost admiring. "You really had him fooled, Mel."

The Dominant Diva's smile widened a little. "That's why they call it _acting_, Johnny…and we both know that when it comes to acting, I'm the _best_."

Nitro touched her face, the backs of his fingers trailing down her cheek. "Well, thanks to your acting, we were finally able to get rid of that has-been waste of space." His tone became disdainful. "Can you imagine what a joke you would be—what _both_ of us would be—if we had to spend our careers associated with a fat slob like Mick Foley?"

The Intercontinental Champion was too full of alcohol and euphoric confidence to notice the slight strain that crept into her voice. "Yeah…I can just imagine."

Nitro leaned even closer, his lips grazing hers. "That's why we make such a great pair, Mel. The Intercontinental Champ, the hottest Diva on Raw, and just between the two of us, baby…" He lowered his voice. "Acting isn't the _only_ thing that you're the best at." With that, he captured her mouth with his, gripping the back of her neck as he kissed her. Melina pressed her body against Nitro's, disentangling her arms from his neck, running her hands down his chest.

For a moment, the pair seemed to melt into one another—then with an exasperated groan, Nitro pulled back. "Aw, shit, time out, Mel—I have to take a piss."

Melina's beautiful features registered disgust and she involuntarily took a step back as well. "_Wow_, Johnny…TMI."

Nitro shrugged. "What can I say?" He moved toward the bathroom, his eyes still focused on his girlfriend. "I'll be right back; _you_—" He pointed with both hands at Melina, winking. "—don't go anywhere." He turned, and had just reached the doorframe when he stopped, glancing back at the Dominant Diva. "Oh, and Mel?" Melina looked back at him expectantly without saying anything. Nitro reverently removed his blue-and-gold championship belt, gazing at it admiringly for a second before turning his attention back to his girlfriend. "Hold my belt, will you?" He casually tossed the championship over in her direction. Melina caught it awkwardly with both arms, staggering and almost dropping to her knees under the weight of the title belt. If Nitro noticed her difficulties, he didn't acknowledge it. "Thatagirl," he added encouragingly before disappearing into the bathroom.

As soon as the door swung shut behind him, the smile on Melina's face slowly faded, replaced by a grimace of irritation. She loved Johnny, she really did, but sometimes, he was just so…_oblivious_. Gradually, this too vanished, a countenance of resigned sadness taking its place. The Raw Diva sighed, bowing her head, her shoulders slumping. She turned, and dumping the heavy Intercontinental title on the bed, moved to the window, pushing aside the patterned curtain to stare at the urban landscape outside the hotel.

All night, she had been trying to tell herself that she had no reason to feel guilty, that she had done the right thing by betraying Mick Foley—but despite all of her assurances, guilt had still managed to sneak back in. Somehow, even after all the pain she had caused in the WWE, she still possessed a conscience, was still able to feel remorse for her actions. And no matter how matter times she told herself that what had happened tonight had not been her fault—deep down, she knew that it was.

"Stop," the Raw Diva whispered to herself, reaching up to massage her temples with one hand. "I did what I had to." At this, she almost let out a bitter little laugh. That should be her own personal mantra; she should have it tattooed on her forehead. _I did what I had to. _

_I did what I had to…consequences be damned._

She had spent years trying to break into this business, gritting her teeth and swallowing her pride when she was passed over for Diva Search rejects with no wrestling ability. And when she had finally received that long-sought-after WWE contract, what had her first order of business been? To be lumped in with said rejects and forced to participate in useless Raw second hour filler like lingerie fashion shows and limbo contests. No one asked her to wrestle. No one even cared that she _could_ wrestle.

Getting demoted back to OVW…it had stung, but it had also ended up being the best thing for her career. It had been there that she had met Nitro…and there that she had vowed to stop being nice. _Nice_ had never gotten her anything. When she had reappeared on SmackDown several months later with Nitro and Joey Mercury as part of MNM, it didn't take the other Superstars long to figure out that she wasn't the same sweet little Melina Perez anymore.

Over the next year, she stepped on anyone and everyone—Superstars and Divas alike—in order to make her mark in this business; making her boys three-time WWE Tag Team Champions in the process. After MNM had split up and she and Nitro had been signed to Raw, she had used that same ruthless ambition to secure the Intercontinental Championship for her boyfriend…and to help him keep it.

But now, three months into her second stint on Raw, what did she really have to show for it? She had spent her career achieving greatness for others, but had obtained none for herself. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, she was JAD—Just Another Diva. She and Nitro were the A-list couple, the darlings of the paparazzi—but all anyone really cared about was Nitro's Intercontinental Title. After three months, the only things she had achieved for herself were one or two insignificant singles victories…and a guilty conscience.

Sometimes, late at night (while Nitro snored away obliviously beside her), Melina would lie awake and stare up at the ceiling, wondering if all of the success, all of the notoriety in the world was really worth anything if it came at the cost of her own soul—

The Dominant Diva squeezed her eyes closed, balling up her fist and pressing it against the cool glass. _No_. She would not waste her time concerning herself with what everyone else thought of her. What had everyone else ever done for her? The only person who had ever been there for her was Nitro; he was all she needed. Right now, he was the Intercontinental Champion; with her help, it wouldn't be too long before he was WWE Champion. And once that happened…no one would be able to touch her. No one would be able to call her arm candy ever again. She would truly be _the_ Dominant Diva, and no one was going to stop her from reaching that goal—especially not a washed-up loser like Mick Foley.

But as her remorse evaporated in the wake of her ambition, Melina couldn't stop herself from wondering if there was something _missing_; if she was lacking some intangible element in her life that was infinitely more important than any championship…

"Hey, Mel, what're you doing over there?"

The Dominant Diva turned at the sound of Nitro's voice, her eyes widening in shock. A stifled gasp escaped her lips. Nitro had exited the bathroom, its warm white light illuminating the edges of his body, but leaving his face and figure in shadow. For a heartbeat, she was sure that he was someone else, someone with multicolored hair and the most intense green eyes she had ever seen…

Then Nitro stepped into the light, revealing his face and shattering the illusion. Melina let her breath out in a long relieved exhale. She couldn't fathom what could have caused her to imagine something like that. Nitro and the guy she had met earlier—they were nothing alike. That guy was a rebel, a punk, a burnout who clearly didn't understand his place in the grand scheme of things. He was on the other side of the spectrum, and eyes or no eyes, he was so far from her type that it was a waste of time even making these comparisons.

The Intercontinental Champion moved toward her slowly, his handsome face creasing in concern. "Mel? Are you all right?"

The Dominant Diva gave her head a quick shake, reddish brown ringlets bouncing against her face. "I'm fine…you just startled me, that's all." She stepped forward, her mouth curving up into a flirtatious smile. "So...where were we?"

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As soon as Jeff arrived at the arena in Canton, Ohio, for the Friday night house show, he was immediately summoned to the general manager's office. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior figured that it had to be some form of good news, since he had _technically_ won his return match on Monday. But then again, with the McMahons, you never knew. It was no secret that their feud with Degeneration X was slowly unraveling both Vince and Shane. Jeff had left the arena last week shortly after his match; it hadn't been until later that he had heard about Mick Foley, how they had fired him _after_ making him join the Kiss My Ass Club. Granted, it wasn't the first time Foley had lost his job—and probably wouldn't be the last. But still, his abrupt and humiliating termination still served as an ugly reminder that you were never really safe in this business.

_There has to be a middle ground_…Jeff mused to himself as he made his way to the GM's office. _There has to be someplace where I can just compete without stepping on someone else's politics_… He wanted no part of Edge, and he _definitely_ wanted nothing to do with this whole DX business; there had to be a third option available. Maybe that's what he was about to find out.

He reached the room, and raising his hand, rapped lightly on the door with his knuckles. He heard an impatient "Come in!" and pushing the door open, entered the space. The first thing he saw was Shane McMahon sitting on the edge of a large wooden desk. The elder McMahon sibling gestured toward the other side of the room, where two luxurious black leather sofas formed a "V" in the corner. "You're here; have a seat."

Jeff turned toward the couches, noticing the room's other occupant for the first time. The Legend Killer Randy Orton leaned back a little, his muscles tensing at the sight of the new arrival. The two men eyed each other warily for a few seconds. Jeff knew Randy a little bit; they had been on Raw together briefly before he had been released by the company. Back then, the third-generation Superstar had just been recruited by a hot new faction called Evolution, and despite his young age, had been a complete douche. Judging by the arrogant sneer touching Randy's mouth, very little had changed in the past three and a half years.

The Charismatic Enigma took a seat on the other sofa, crossing his ankle over his knee and focusing on the Chairman's son. Shane, satisfied that he had both their attention, cleared his throat and began. "I brought both of you here to tell you that you'll be competing against each other this week, culminating in a match on the next edition of Monday Night Raw." At this news, both Superstars shot each other another suspicious glance, but neither one said anything. Shane continued. "Now, I want to think of these as warm-up matches, because your match on Monday night will determine the next number-one-contender for Johnny Nitro's Intercontinental Championship." He fell silent, allowing this news to sink in.

The younger Hardy felt a shock of adrenaline and excitement course through him. A shot at the Intercontinental Championship…_that _was the kind of competition he'd been seeking. True, he'd have to go through Randy Orton to get it (douche or not, the guy _was_ talented), but _still_, a shot at the Intercontinental Championship—

But he was getting ahead of himself; there might be strings attached. After all, he hadn't exactly left the company on the best of terms; why were they giving him _anything_? Jeff opened his mouth to ask why, but luckily, Randy beat him to it.

"No offense, Shane," The Legend Killer's voice was dripping with condescension. "But why exactly is someone like _Jeff_ _Hardy_ getting a shot at the title? I mean, the guy's a burnout—"

"Nice to see you again, too, Randy," the Rainbow-Haired Warrior interjected sarcastically.

Randy went on as though there had been no interruption. "—he leaves, goes and wrestles for another _company_, then out of the blue decides to return, and you welcome him back like some kind of prodigal son. Meanwhile, _I've_ been busting my ass for this company for the past three _years_. Need I remind you that I was the _youngest_ World Heavyweight Champion in history?"

"You don't need to remind me," the elder McMahon sibling replied quietly. "In fact, _Randy_, since you're looking for a reason—let me remind _you_ that the so-called 'prodigal son' _won_ his match last week."

Randy scoffed. "Big deal; he only won by DQ."

"Yeah?" Shane countered, his voice faintly challenging. "And last time I checked, you _lost_ your match by DQ, so as far as I'm concerned, that makes you both even. Now—" The Chairman's son rose to his feet. "I've got a lot of work to get done before the show tonight, so unless either of you gentlemen has anything else to add, I'll see you both later."

Randy glowered, but didn't say anything. Jeff merely rose to his feet, nodding courteously at Shane, who returned the gesture. The Charismatic Enigma moved to the door, opening it and stepping out into the hall.

He had gone barely five feet when a hand clamped down onto his shoulder, spinning him forcibly around. Jeff found himself staring into the Legend Killer's cold blue eyes. Randy glared back at him for a moment, his face twisting into a sneer. "So the great Jeff Hardy has _finally_ returned to us," he spat mockingly. "Listen, Jeff, you may have been hot shit years ago, but you're out of your league if you think that you're beating me. Everyone _knows_ that you're washed up; that you're just one mistake away from crashing and burning—"

"You like to talk a lot, Randy," Jeff interrupted, surprised by how calm his voice sounded. "Tell me—how much of that talking is going to help you out in the ring?"

The Legend Killer's eyes narrowed to small slits. "You better watch your back," he growled.

"I'll keep that in mind," Jeff retorted. For several moments, the two Superstars regarded each other, neither one willing to back down. Eventually, Randy tore his gaze from Jeff and walked away—but not before making sure to bump into the Rainbow-Haired Warrior extra hard with his shoulder as he did so. Jeff stumbled, almost losing his footing and leaning back against the wall for support. He watched the Legend Killer depart, his mouth curling into a grimace of distaste. "Dick." he muttered under his breath.

Just then, another hand touched his arm. Jeff whirled around, fully expecting to see another Superstar full of trash-talk—the angry remark on his lips dying when he beheld the girl standing behind him. She had long brown hair and large green eyes. Her features were perfect and precise, like those of a Barbie doll, but the warmth and emotion in her face made her far more interesting and attractive than any Barbie.

Jeff didn't know what to say; he was temporarily lost for words. The girl tilted her head to the side, studying him with those huge eyes of hers. "You're Jeff Hardy, right?" Jeff still couldn't speak, only nodded. The girl extended her hand. "Hi! I'm Maria. Maria Kanellis."

The Charismatic Enigma tentatively accepted it, closing his fingers around hers. "Nice to meet you," he finally managed to say. He wondered where he had seen this girl before, and in a flash, it came to him. "Wait…you're the backstage reporter, aren't you?"

Maria grimaced, an expression which she somehow managed to make look absolutely adorable. "If you can _call_ it that," She noticed Jeff's questioning countenance and offered an explanation. "It's more like 'Here! Wear your skimpiest top, hold this microphone, ask the dumbest questions on earth, and then wonder _why_ they call you an idiot.'" She stopped, flushing slightly in embarrassment. "Sorry…I'm babbling, aren't I?"

There was something about her bubbly effusiveness that was both overwhelming and utterly endearing, and Jeff found himself warming to her. Besides, she was the first person who hadn't treated him like some kind of unwanted interloper. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior smiled. "No more than anyone else."

Maria blushed harder, glancing down at her feet. "It's just…I'm kind of starstruck right now; I was a really big fan of yours—I'm _still_ a really big fan." She glanced up, her green eyes locking onto his once again.

"Thanks," Jeff answered awkwardly, feeling like an idiot. To him, it had always been about performing and competing; he still couldn't wrap his head around the idea that he'd been doing it long enough for people to _admire_ him—especially girls as pretty as this.

The backstage reporter glanced down the hall, then back at Jeff. "It must be weird for you—being back here," she offered. "I bet a lot has changed."

The Charismatic Enigma nodded slowly. For a moment, it was Monday night again, and he was back at that hallway, staring at that girl, that beautiful viper who had called him a nobody…But then the moment ended, and he was back in the present, staring at another girl, one just as lovely, but the complete polar opposite of the other one. "Yeah," he finally replied. "A lot _has_ changed_._" _And a lot hasn't…_he added silently to himself.

Maria glanced down at her feet again, obviously steeling herself for something. "Listen," she began. "I was heading to the catering table to grab some water—do you…want to come with me?"

Her nervousness and trepidation was so cute that Jeff couldn't help himself; he grinned. "Sure!" he replied. Maria's face lit up instantly, her lips curving up into a sunny smile. Jeff pushed himself off the wall, and the two of them began walking toward the intersection of corridors up ahead.

"You're going to have to help me out," he told Maria. The backstage reporter's eyes widened and she nodded seriously. "I've been away for three years, so there's a lot I've missed. I'm counting on _you_ to fill me in on everybody. Who's nice, who's not—" The pair moved out into the intersection. Jeff continued. "—who I can talk to, and who I should avoid like the—"

That was all he got out before a blur of pink, white and brown slammed into him, knocking him off-balance. Unlike Monday night, Jeff was distracted, and unable to regain his equilibrium, lost his footing and fell. He heard a muffled shriek—which he assumed came from Maria—and had the vague impression of rolling as he hit the ground. His eyes were squeezed shut; he felt his shoulder and back connect with the floor before he tumbled face-first onto a soft pile of something. He heard an "OOOF!", as though someone had just had the air knocked out of them.

For a second, Jeff was too paralyzed by surprise to move. Then, above him, he heard Maria exclaim: "Oh my God! Jeff! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Jeff tried to say, then realized that his face was pressed against something warm and soft. Finding the floor with his hands, he pushed himself up, opening his eyes. His irises grew wide when he saw the sight beneath him. The soft pile he had landed on…was a girl, and the warm soft something that his face had been pressed against…was her ample cleavage. Jeff felt his face burning. His gaze traveled up to her face, and he froze. No way. No fucking way. It couldn't be—

Melina winced, her features twisting in pain. She wondered dimly what the hell had just happened. One minute, she had been hurrying down the hall, texting rapidly on her SideKick, the next, she was lying flat on her back, with what felt like a golf bag draped over her. That idiot—whoever the hell he was, he had come out of nowhere. As soon as she was up, she was going to rip him _such_ a new one.

The Dominant Diva moaned, pressing one hand to her head. Her eyelids flickered open, and the first thing that her brown eyes saw was a very familiar pair of green ones staring down at her.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior and the paparazzi princess both gasped, then exclaimed at the same time:

"_You_!"


	3. Chapter 3: Nothing In Common

**A/N: Once again, I apologize for the wait. I have gotten bogged down with all kinds of classwork and projects. I wanted to get this chapter out, because my upcoming week is pretty hectic. I have to say, though, that I am really looking forward to telling this story. I have been brainstorming and I have all this ideas and I can't wait to write them down. All I can say is...bear with me, please, because I never abandon anything. With that in mind--ENJOY! Peace!  
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**Thank you to **Ainat, , Writinglove101, StarSixtyNine, , cherrycokerocks, RatedRCouture, Medieval Mystic, **and **wwechick24 **for reviewing the last chapter! Again, your feedback really means a lot to me, and I thank you all for it!

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Chapter 3: Nothing In Common

Maria glanced from one to the other, her pretty face creasing in confusion. "Wait…you two _know_ each other?" she asked slowly.

"_No_!" Melina immediately exclaimed, at the same time that Jeff admitted: "Kind of…"

The Dominant Diva glared at him, her dark eyes shooting baleful sparks. "Yeah, _right_!" she spat. "Like _I_ would _ever_ associate myself with a washed-up loser like you!"

Jeff matched her frown with one of his own. "You're no prize yourself, princess," he retorted. "At least _I _don't mow people down because I'm too busy texting on my cell phone."

Melina gasped in outraged shock. Off to the side, Maria silently took a step back. "You _jerk_!" the paparazzi princess shrieked. For the first time, Jeff glimpsed the fiery temper smoldering beneath the Raw Diva's beautiful exterior. Melina pushed herself up onto her elbows, jamming her face into the Rainbow-Haired Warrior's. "Do you have _any_ idea who _I_ am?"

"_No_!" Jeff shot back just as vehemently, meeting her gaze. "And to be honest…I'm starting to be glad that I _don't_!" Melina was struck speechless by this. Her lips moved, but the only sound she was able to utter was a collection of indignant syllables. As she struggled to regain her voice (something which _never_ happened to her in the ring), she began to realize that despite all of this guy's animosity toward her, he had yet to move off her…just as she had yet to push him away. She glanced up and in doing so, inadvertently met—_really met_—his eyes for the first time. Their gazes locked and held, and incredibly, Melina felt her cheeks begin to burn.

Jeff heard the male voice as though from a distance—"Hey! Asshole! Get the hell off her!"—but didn't comprehend that it was directed at him until he felt a hand grab him by the hair, hauling him off the mystery girl and against the adjacent wall. The back of his skull connected with the cinder block surface, and for a few seconds, all he saw was bright spots of color. Eventually, his vision cleared and the Charismatic Enigma shook his head, trying to clear away the dizziness. Blinking a few times, he saw some pretty boy in a ridiculous-looking fur coat kneeling down by the mystery girl; helping her up into a sitting position and gently pushing her reddish-brown curls back from her face. "Mel, are you all right?" the pretty boy asked anxiously. He reached up and tenderly cupped her cheek in his hand. "Did he hurt you?"

The mystery girl—"Mel"—shook her head. "I'm fine, Johnny," As she gazed at the pretty boy, an unexpected expression of tenderness flashed across her features, briefly transforming her from a harpy into an angel. Jeff felt his breath catch in his throat when he saw just how beautiful she really was. _So this is what she looks like when she's actually happy to see someone…_he thought to himself.

Almost as though she had heard him, the mystery girl turned toward him, her beatific countenance instantly transforming into a scowl. Just like that, the harpy had returned. She pointed her index finger in his direction accusingly. "_He_ ran into me!" she snarled.

_Oh really, Little Miss I-Couldn't-Tear-My-Eyes-Away-From-My-Two-Way?..._Jeff thought to himself sourly. He didn't get a chance to voice it, however, before the pretty boy rose to his feet, whirling around and storming toward the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. "Hey, jackoff!" he shouted, glaring down at Jeff over a pair of expensive-looking sunglasses. "What the _hell_ were you thinking, putting your hands on her?"

Jeff had just opened his mouth, fully intending to ask _this_ jackoff just who the hell _he_ was, when something else caught his attention. Up until now, he'd only seen the pretty boy from the back, so it was at this moment that he caught his first glimpse of the blue-and-gold Championship belt draped over the other Superstar's shoulder. Even from his vantage point on the floor, Jeff could still make out the lettering on the name plate:

_Johnny Nitro_

The Charismatic Enigma glanced from the title belt back to the pretty boy's face, comprehension finally starting to dawn in his mind. "Wait a minute…" he began slowly. "Nitro? _You're_ Johnny Nitro?"

The pretty boy froze for a second, and then pushed his sunglasses up onto the top of his head. "Yeah?" he replied warily. "What's it to you?"

Jeff shrugged. "No reason," He felt the words burbling up inside him, and before he could stop to consider whether or not saying them would be a good idea, they were already out of his mouth. "Just…when I heard that _you_ were the Intercontinental Champion, I pictured someone less…_gay_."

Nitro's handsome face twisted into an expression of dislike. "Motherfucker—" he growled under his breath, and with surprising speed, he lashed out with his booted foot, catching Jeff squarely in the abdomen. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior doubled over, gagging, all the oxygen temporarily driven from his body.

The Intercontinental Champion pulled his foot back for a second blow when Melina suddenly latched onto his arm, dragging him back. "Wait! Johnny, wait!" Jeff lifted his head up, still struggling to catch his breath. He saw the mystery girl put her hand on Nitro's cheek, turning his face back toward her. "Johnny, baby—he is _so_ not worth it." Her eyes momentarily from Nitro's to Jeff's, shooting invisible daggers in his direction. The mystery Diva turned back toward the Intercontinental Champion, her voice now a seductive purr. "Come on, baby, let's just go."

Nitro stared at her for a second or two, and his body gradually relaxed. "You're right, Mel; we've got bigger things to think about than this loser." He let Melina lead him away, but just before they headed off down the hall, Nitro turned back, pointing at Jeff. "You got off lucky, you hear me?"

The Charismatic Enigma didn't reply; not out of any newfound common sense, but because he was still too out of breath to talk. He waited until the Intercontinental Champion's back and he was a couple yards down the hall before rolling his eyes. _What a prick…_he thought. It was just his luck that the guy holding the Intercontinental Championship turned out to be a complete bastard. On the plus side, though, it would make taking the title from him that much sweeter.

Even as he banished the thought from his mind, however, Jeff knew that it wasn't the IC Title that he found most interesting about Johnny Nitro; it was that beautiful witch at his side…

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior sensed movement beside him, and turned to see Maria kneeling down next to him, her large eyes filled with sympathy. Her lips curled into a wry half-smile and she extended her slim-fingered hand. "Need some help?"

"That would be great," Jeff managed to croak out. Taking hold of both of Maria's hands, he was able to raise himself gingerly to his feet. His gut still ached and he was battling the urge to throw up, but he had endured worse in the ring. Glancing down the hall at the now-absent forms of Nitro and the mystery girl, he turned back toward Raw's backstage reporter, a puzzled countenance on his face. "Okay, what the hell just happened? Who _was_ that?"

Maria briefly slid her gaze down the vacant corridor before resuming her focus on Jeff. "As you probably figured out, _that_ was the Intercontinental Champion Johnny Nitro…and the chick you bumped into…that's his girlfriend, Melina."

"Girlfriend?" Jeff couldn't describe the strange mixture of emotions that coursed through him at the mention of that single word; it felt almost like…disappointment. He quickly pushed them aside. "You telling me that harpy is actually part of the Raw roster?"

Maria nodded. "Yeah, she and Nitro came here from SmackDown at the end of May. They were part of some tag team that split up or something. Anyway, Nitro won the Intercontinental Title back in June, and it's no secret…" The backstage reporter stopped and looked around furtively, even though she and Jeff were the only ones in the corridor. Satisfied that no one was eavesdropping, she continued, albeit in a lower tone of voice. "It's no secret that _she's_ the only reason he's _still _Champion."

"So, what you're saying is: watch out for her." Jeff answered. He was starting to get a clearer picture of the situation.

Maria nodded again in the affirmative. "Seriously, Jeff. If Melina's at ringside, she'll do whatever she has to to make sure that Nitro wins the match. Kick you while you're outside the ring, scream at the ref, cause a DQ—whatever it takes." Her pretty features briefly twisted with disgust.

Jeff noted her reaction, a slow smile slipping onto his own face. "You don't like her…do you?"

The backstage reporter rolled her eyes. "_No one_ likes her. Pardon my language, Jeff—but Melina's a bitch." Just hearing this epithet from Maria's mouth made Jeff want to burst out laughing, but he managed to swallow his snickers. Maria continued. "She walks around here like she's better than everyone else, even though she's been in about as many matches as _I _have. She doesn't change with the other Divas if she doesn't have to, and when she does, she treats us all like dirt. The first day I met her—" Maria's eyebrows came together in a frown as she recalled the story. "—I went up and introduced myself; just said 'Hi, I'm Maria Kanellis; welcome to Raw.' Do you know what she said to me?" She looked at Jeff expectantly. The Charismatic Enigma merely shrugged and indicated that she should continue. The backstage reporter lowered her pitch slightly, trying to imitate Melina's strident tone. "Oh, it's _you_. Are you going to drop the microphone this time, or just forget the questions?"

This time, Jeff _did_ burst out laughing, but unlike his first encounter with Melina, he was able to get this bout of hilarity back under control. Maria looked at him, her frown gradually relaxing into a smile of her own. "I know, right?" she added, as though Jeff's laughter had been a statement in itself.

"Don't worry," the Rainbow-Haired Warrior managed to say when he finally returned to normal. "I'm pretty sure that after today, I'm the _last_ person that chick wants to be around."

"Jeff, I'm serious, okay?" The backstage reporter's voice had taken on a sober quality, and Jeff looked back at her, his own smile fading. Maria leaned toward him. "Steer clear of Melina." she whispered.

The Charismatic Enigma nodded, but even as he did so, he couldn't help but wonder how one girl could be so aggravating and yet so fascinating at the same time…

* * *

"…So there I am, walking down the hall, minding my own business…" Melina went on. "All of a sudden, this _asshole_ comes out of _nowhere_; next thing I know, I'm flat on my back and this pervert's got his face pressed into my boobs," She clutched Nitro's arm a little tighter, turning to look at her boyfriend. "Thank God you came along when you did, Johnny,"

The Intercontinental Champion used his free hand to ease his title belt more securely up onto his shoulder. "What a jerk," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "I'm gonna go kick his ass; _someone_ should kick his ass—"

"No! No, Johnny, wait!" Melina clung to his arm, doing everything short of digging her nails into his skin to deter him. She gazed up at her boyfriend with appraising adoration. "You're better than him, remember? You don't need to stoop down to his level."

Nitro glanced over at her, and the tension eventually went out of his body. "You're right, Mel," he grudgingly agreed. "You're right, as always,"

"Of course I am," Melina replied sweetly. They continued on for a few more feet before the Dominant Diva bit her lip, stealing another look at her boyfriend. "Um…Johnny…quick question: who _was_ that, anyway?"

The Intercontinental Champion ground to a halt, turning toward his girlfriend. "You're kidding, right?" he asked incredulously. Melina felt her tentative smile fade. Most of the time, Nitro was the epitome of a devoted, sweet, _obedient_ boyfriend, but every once in a while…he would get this expression on his face; would look at her and speak to her with something bordering on contempt. She had rarely seen it during their MNM days, but ever since Johnny had become Intercontinental Champion, she had started to see it more and more. It was a countenance that allowed her to see a darker side of Johnny Nitro…a side that Melina would just as soon avoid.

The Intercontinental Champion, however, didn't seem to notice her discomfort. He glanced back the way they had came, not looking at her as he spoke. "You remember that loser Matt Hardy we had to deal with back on SmackDown?" The paparazzi princess nodded.

Nitro looked back at her, his mouth curving up into a derisive smile. "Well…the douche who ran into you…_that_ was his burnout younger brother, Jeff."

Melina's mouth dropped out. "You're _kidding_!" she exclaimed. "_That _was Jeff Hardy?"

Nitro looked at her oddly. "You sound surprised, babe."

The Dominant Diva shrugged. "It's nothing; I just thought he'd be…" She scrambled for an appropriate adjective, and finally added lamely: "…_taller_."

For a split second, the Intercontinental Champion stared at her, then threw back his head, roaring with laughter. Melina watched him, unsure whether she should be offended—or join in. "Ah, Mel, you kill me!" Nitro managed to say after he had gotten himself under control. "You know all about him, right?"

His girlfriend nodded. "More or less—that he used to be a great tag team wrestler, got fired for being a drug addict and a burnout, then went to TNA and got fired for pretty much the same reasons." She tilted her head to the side, pushing a curl of hair from her face. "I didn't know Vince had rehired him."

Nitro bobbed his head in affirmation. "Yeah, I just got the news from Shane tonight; apparently he and Randy Orton are going to be squaring off to determine who gets to face me for the IC Title." His affable expression dissipated, transforming into a scowl. "I can't believe that they're letting him back in the _ring_, let alone letting him get a shot at _my_ title. I mean, after what just happened—where the _hell_ does this guy get off, talking back to _me_, trying to feel you up—"

"Johnny!" Melina quickly reached up, taking Nitro's face in both of her hands. "Look at me," she commanded. Nitro obeyed. "You have a title defense tonight against Carlito; the last thing you need to be thinking about is Jeff Hardy." Her lips curled into a sneer. "I don't know why you're so worried. That loser's just going to crash and burn like always. Just watch; I bet he won't even make it past the qualifying match. And if he _does_…"

The paparazzi princess dropped her voice down to a whisper. Tiptoeing up, she placed her mouth right next to Nitro's ear. "Then I will be _right there_, just like I have _always_ been there. Trust me, even if he makes it to the match…there's no way in hell I'm letting him walk out with your title."

She heard Nitro's breathing grow heavier, felt his hands come to rest on her waist. "That's what I love about you, Mel," the Intercontinental Champion murmured. "You always know how to put things in perspective."

"Hm," Melina cooed softly. She pulled back a little bit, smiling up at her boyfriend. "Now, why don't we go back to our dressing room…" She slowly walked her fingers up along the curve of his biceps. "…and you let me warm you up for your big match." the Dominant Diva finished.

Nitro wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her against his side. "Well, then, what're we still hanging around here for?" he remarked. The two of them continued their stroll down the hallway.

Even as she pressed against Nitro, even as she felt his lips graze the curve of her neck, Melina couldn't get the image of Jeff Hardy's intense green eyes out of her mind. She hated him, she still kind of wanted Nitro to head back and kick his ass—but yet when he had looked into her eyes, she had felt that she and Jeff understood each other. That even though she was the A-lister and he was the burnout, they were the same.

Which was ridiculous...because what could she and Jeff Hardy _possibly_ have in common?


	4. Chapter 4: Never Be Friends

**A/N: NEW CHAPTER! Sorry about the wait; I hit a bad patch, and didn't want to write, and then I had writer's block....you know how it goes. But I have a LOT of time brainstorming, so (fingers crossed!) hopefully, I'll be getting some new chapters out there.**

**Thank you to **RatedRCouture, AidynMarie, cherrycokerocks, AshlynnxHearts, wwechick24, **and**miles89 **for reviewing the last chapter! Also I want to thank **D Torres **and **Oomph Kiddo **for reviewing Chapter 2. (The dumb site thought I was writing an email address, so your names didn't show up) Thank you, thank you, thank you! You are all VERY awesome!

* * *

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Chapter 4: Never Be Friends

Jeff leaned back against the rear bumper of his rental car, headphones jammed into his ears. Loud rock music was blaring in his head, but the Rainbow-Haired Warrior wasn't aware of the name of the song or even who the artist was. All he could think about was his recent victory over Randy Orton—his first _real _victory since returning to the WWE.

Jeff closed his eyes, unable to keep the grin off his face. When he'd hit the Twist of Fate, and then climbed up the turnbuckle for the Swanton, surrounding by cheering fans…it was like he'd never left the WWE. He wasn't sure which part of the bout he'd enjoyed more—the sensation of falling as he dove toward the mat, or merely getting the opportunity to wipe that arrogant smirk off of the self-proclaimed "Legend Killer's" face. As soon as the referee had raised his arm in victory, Jeff could already feel the weight of the Intercontinental Championship title belt on his shoulder.

The Charismatic Enigma knew that he should slow down and think realistically—he still had two more matches against Orton, plus the real deal on Monday night—but he couldn't help it. It had been so long since he had held championship gold, and it had been so _easy_ beating the Legend Killer—easier than he would have thought. Pretty soon, it wouldn't be Orton he would be facing in a wrestling ring, but a fur coat-wearing prick by the name of Johnny Nitro…

At the thought of the Intercontinental Champion, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior's confident grin faded. His lean frame ached, which was normal—after all the abuse he had put his body through over the years, pain had become a constant companion—but in the midst of the normal twinges and bruises, he felt he could still detect the precise spot where Nitro's wrestling boot had connected with his abdomen.

The corner of Jeff's mouth twitched in distaste. "Asshole," he muttered. He'd known instinctively that he and Johnny Nitro were not going to get along, and the pretty-boy had managed to prove him right. Beating Randy Orton tonight had been great, but taking away Nitro's title…that would be even better. _That'll knock him down a peg…_the Charismatic Enigma thought with satisfaction. _Him and that banshee he calls a girlfriend…_

Jeff remembered the haughty glare on Melina's face; how her dark eyes had practically been shooting sparks in his direction. And that _voice_…Jesus Christ, talk about a sound that could shatter glass! She and Nitro deserved each other, and as far as Jeff was concerned, he was pretty sure that he would be perfectly happy if he _never_ saw her again.

_Pretty_ sure...

Except…

Why, despite all her badmouthing, had she stopped Nitro from beating him up? Why, while they were both on the floor, in the most compromising position imaginable, hadn't she pushed him off or kneed him in the balls or _something_? And why hadn't _he_ moved off her, either? Despite himself, Jeff found himself thinking of the transitory tenderness in Melina's expression; how—just for that one brief moment—he had glimpsed something in her that was beautiful and good—

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior shook his head briskly, the ear buds almost falling out of his ears in the process. He still barely knew Melina—and what he _did_ know about her, he didn't like. Every time he had encountered her, she had left him either pissed-off or on the floor in pain. And as for whatever good he had glimpsed in her—that look of tenderness had been directed at Nitro, not him. The moment those brown eyes had swung to him, that beautiful countenance had twisted into something ugly and spiteful.

_Remember Mick Foley…_Jeff told himself. _He thought he saw something good in her…and look where it got him…_ Maria had filled him in on the details of the Hardcore Legend's termination—and how the paparazzi princess had contributed to his downfall. Jeff had hit some pretty low points in his career, but he was thankful that membership in the Kiss My Ass Club, courtesy of a Diva, was not one of them.

_I guess that's what happens when you risk everything for a girl…_the Charismatic Enigma mused. But that wasn't him, was it? There was no way that Jeff would risk everything for a girl—especially one that he hated.

The light touch on his arm startled him, and Jeff's eyes flew open. He looked over sharply, relaxing when he saw that it was only Maria. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior removed the ear buds from his ears, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry," he apologized. "Didn't hear you come up."

The backstage reporter glanced down at the ear buds in his hands. Even through the headphones, the music was still loud enough to intrude on their conversation. "I'm not surprised," she replied, but there was no sarcasm in her tone.

Jeff quickly shoved the ear buds into his pocket, muffling the sound. As he did so, he took the time to study Maria out of the corner of his eye. The Raw Diva had changed from her on-camera apparel into jeans and a graphic t-shirt. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her face had been scrubbed clean of makeup. She looked totally different from the backstage reporter who had approached him in the hallway earlier, but that didn't make her any less endearing to Jeff—or any less adorable. She was like a real human being now, and less like a living Barbie doll.

Maria looked back up at him. "I wanted to ask you…" She hesitated for a second. "Do you want to…grab some dinner with me?" Before Jeff even had a chance to mull the idea over, she rushed onward, holding up her hands as though protesting her innocence. "Strictly platonic, I swear! It's not a date, I'm not fishing for a boyfriend or anything like that…it's just—"

"I'd love to," Jeff interjected quietly. Maria was so surprised that she stopped speaking in mid-sentence, her mouth still hanging open. After a few long moments, she snapped it closed, smiling just as awkwardly as Jeff had.

"Awesome!" she exclaimed brightly, blinking her big eyes. The Raw Diva glanced behind her, and then back at him. "I'm just going to put my stuff in my car…and then I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay," Jeff agreed. He patted the trunk of the car. "I'll still be right here."

Maria opened her mouth to add something else, apparently thought better of it, and instead bobbed her head in a quick nod. Turning around, she moved with small precise steps across the parking garage. Jeff watched her departure with more than a little appreciation. He might not have been looking for a girlfriend, but he was still a _guy._ He and Maria hadn't really been flirting, but the capacity to do so was there; an initial physical attraction lingering just below the surface.

And if there was, so what? In the short time that he had known Maria Kanellis, he had found her to be sweet, funny, and generally cool to be around. What would be so wrong with their newfound friendship eventually leading to something more?

As the Charismatic Enigma pondered these notions, another idea flitted through his mind; one which was quickly suppressed by his subconscious, tucked away until future events would force it back to the surface.

When he had felt that light touch on his arm and turned to see Maria standing next to him…why, in that brief moment of recognition, had he wished that she was someone else?

* * *

Nitro eased his title belt up onto his shoulder, smirking at the sea of faces before him. With his other, he first adjusted his designer sunglasses, then tapped the microphone on the podium set up in the ring to make sure that it was working properly. That task accomplished, he favored the Raw audience with another scornful gaze.

"You know," he began. "Ever since last week, people have been _hounding_ Melina for a comment about what she did to Mick Foley last week." His words were greeted with a few weak boos. The Intercontinental Champion went on, reaching up to pull his sunglasses further down the bridge of his nose. "But, come on, what did you people _expect_ her to do? I mean, look at me."

The Raw Superstar leaned back, indicating his championship gold and impressive physique with both hands. "I'm _Johnny Nitro_. I'm the _Intercontinental Champion_." Nitro sneered. "You all _wish _that you were me." The Intercontinental Champion turned slightly to his left, indicating his girlfriend. "I get to go home and get freaky with Melina _every night_—and then I cuddle with _my_ Intercontinental Championship."

Melina stared at her fingernails as he spoke. Her features were frozen in an expression of bored indifference, but it was a mask, a shield between the world and her true feelings. She kept her gaze on her hands because she was afraid that if she looked at Nitro, he would read in her eyes what she refused to let show on her face—that standing up here was killing her.

The paparazzi princess did not want to be here. Not because the segment was bombing—even though it was; fans knew mid-card filler when they saw it. And not because of boredom or indifference—but because Melina didn't want any more reminders of her betrayal. She had done what was necessary for her career, horrible as it had been, with the belief that once it was over, she would never have to face Mick Foley again.

Much to her chagrin, it was _not_ that simple, as she learned when she had arrived at the Boardwalk Hall in Atlantic City this afternoon. After she and Nitro had been summoned to the GM's office, they had been informed by Mr. McMahon that they would be holding a "press conference" this evening, to address their (or rather, _Melina's_) actions the previous week. Nitro was all gung-ho about the idea; even after a week, he still hadn't gotten all of his Foley-bashing out of his system.

As soon as the Dominant Diva had heard, however, her stomach had inverted and there were a few critical seconds when she was sure that she was going to vomit all over the Chairman's desk. But Melina had swallowed her bile and forced a smile onto her face, stretching her mouth as one would a rubber band. The only thing worse than doing the segment would have been explaining her conflicted conscience to both Nitro and Mr. McMahon.

But as she stood up, listening to her boyfriend extol himself and insult the Hardcore Legend, the paparazzi princess wondered if she would have been better off throwing up on the Chairman. At least then, she would have had an excuse, an opportunity to avoid the cameras and the lights and all mention of Mick Foley. Melina had spent years trying to make it to this ring—and now this ring was the last place she wanted to be.

Plus—in a completely unrelated note—she _really_ hated her hair tonight. The stylist backstage had, for some inexplicable reason, swept the highlighted portions of her dark tresses into a bun, which perched at the top of her forehead like some absurd hat or the horn of a unicorn. Melina hadn't really been paying attention—she'd still been floored by the press conference news—and by the time she did, it was too late to change her hairdo. Johnny hadn't noticed…but then again, Johnny never really noticed things like that.

_Mick did_…the Dominant Diva found herself thinking. _Whenever I cut my bangs or added a new color, Mick was always the first one to notice…and to compliment me_… Melina tried to focus on what Nitro was saying, but she could already feel herself being pulled back, back to the place and time that would eventually lead her to this moment…

_Melina jogged down the ramp, hoping that she wouldn't trip over her own stiletto-heeled boots. At the bottom, in front of the ring, Mick Foley lay in a battered bloodied heap, surrounded by one or two referees and the familiar figure of the trainer. As the paparazzi princess got closer, she heard the trainer say something to referee Chad Patton, something about Foley being "unable to continue". _

_The Dominant Diva halted, kneeling down by Mick's head. Melina was not particularly squeamish, but her stomach still turned at the sight of the Hardcore Legend; he looked like he had been in a car accident. The paparazzi princess felt tears spring to her eyes and she tentatively reached out to brush some of Mick's hair back from his face. As she did so, Mick's eyes flickered open and locked onto hers. Immediately, his mouth twisted in his usual toothless grin, even though he must have been in an extraordinary amount of pain._

_"Wait a minute!" Melina and the trainer looked up at the rasping sound of Ric Flair's voice. The Nature Boy leaned over the top rope, glaring at all of them, but at the Hardcore Legend in particular. His face and chest were covered in blood; he looked like he was wearing a red mask. Melina almost couldn't believe that this wide-eyed maniac was the normally suave, collected, sixteen-time World Champion._

_Flair continued. "This isn't a 'Lay On Your Ass Match'; it's an 'I QUIT' match! Get your ass back in here, Foley!" He threw the mic down, where it hit the floor with a crackle and pop of electricity. The Nature Boy rolled out of the ring and stormed toward the small huddle, which immediately scattered—Melina included. Grabbing Foley by the shirt and hair, he picked him up and hurled him bodily back into the ring. _

_Slowly, moving on feet that no longer felt like they belonged to her, Melina walked to the edge of the ring apron, unable to help, but unable at this point to look away…_

"—So, Mick, keep fantasizing, 'cause my Melina would never associate herself with a bonified quitter like _you_!" Nitro finished, to a weak chorus of apathetic boos. Satisfied, the Intercontinental Champion turned toward his girlfriend, waiting for her to add her rancorous commentary. But Melina said nothing. She didn't even look at him; only continued to stare at her hands.

Nitro cast a surreptitious glance around the arena, wondering how much time he could let elapse before this pause became noticeable. "Mel?" he hissed under his breath, hoping the microphone wouldn't pick up his voice.

The paparazzi princess barely heard him, however; she was still lost in the past…

_Flair shoved the spiked end of the 'Barbie' into Mick's unprotected face, the barbed wire gouging his already-wounded flesh. "I'm gonna tear your eye outta your head!" the Nature Boy snarled._

_"Ric, stop!" Melina cried. She was sobbing now, and not quite sure why. Maybe because up until now, she had never witnessed carnage that hadn't been over a championship. Maybe because she had never realized until now that two men could tear each other apart over something as insignificant as pride. The paparazzi princess turned her attention to the Hardcore Legend. She couldn't tell if Mick was still conscious; the shallow rise and fall of his chest at least assured her that he was still breathing. "Quit, Mick!" she pleaded, her voice breaking as she struggled to rein in her tears. "Please, quit!"_

_Flair's eyes shot up, fastening on her, the blue of his irises startling against the ghastly red hue of his face. "I'll kill you too, you stupid bitch!" he growled, and the Dominant Diva backed up a step or two, still crying. "Now, have you had enough yet?" This statement was directed at Foley. Again, the Hardcore Legend gave no indication of whether or not he was still in the land of the living. Flair's eyes narrowed, and he shoved the 'Barbie' back into Mick's face, tearing his fragile flesh even more. _

_The paparazzi princess wasn't even aware that she was running until she saw the world move past her in a blur. She knelt down by the announce tables, grabbing two different items. One was a microphone._

_The other was a white towel…_

Nitro eyed the audience once again from behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses. The audience—apathetic to begin with—was becoming downright restless, and he could sense that they were mere moments away from starting the dreaded "Boring" chant.

"Mel!" he whispered again, a little louder this time, but there was still no response, no indication that the Dominant Diva had even heard him. It was like she was catatonic or something.

Or just lost in really deep thought…

_Melina hurled the towel over the top rope, watching it for a second as it floated down to the canvas in a pool of white terrycloth. "Ric, he quits!" she screamed into the mic. "He quits!" Scrambling underneath the bottom rope, the paparazzi princess crawled to Mick's side, gazing imploringly up at the Nature Boy. "Please stop it," she pleaded, softer this time. "Ric, stop it."_

_Flair didn't answer at first; only stared back at her. Then, he abruptly wrested the microphone from the referee, raising it to his own lips. "SHE—" he spat, pointing at the Dominant Diva. "SHE…does NOT quit for HIM! HE quits! Get out of the way!"_

_Reaching down, he grabbed Melina by the hair, hauling her away from Foley and practically throwing her across the ring. The paparazzi princess let go of her microphone, shrieking, feeling strands of her hair being torn out by the roots. She stumbled when Flair released her, almost falling down onto her ass. As soon as she had regained her equilibrium, however, she dashed right back to Mick's side, kneeling down once again. _

_As she did so, she wondered what was compelling her to do this; what made Mick Foley so special that she was willing to put her own life in danger. Nitro and Mercury had been in some brutal matches, but she had never inserted herself to this extent; never interfered at the risk of her own safety. _

_She looked back at Mick, and the sight of him almost made her burst into tears all over again. The Hardcore Legend's breath was coming out in shallow gasps; his eyes were closed. As she stared at him, a shadow fell over them both. Slowly, Melina turned, looking up. Flair was standing over her, the 'Barbie' clenched tightly in both hands. As she watched, horrified, the Nature Boy raised the weapon over his head. There was no mistaking his intent; he was going to hit her with it. The Dominant Diva raised up one arm to shield her face, a scream of terror escaping her lips—_

_"Don't hurt her, Ric! I quit!" Melina gasped, turning around to gape at Mick. Somehow, the Hardcore Legend had gotten hold of her microphone and had gathered enough strength to raise it to his mouth and utter the two words that would end the bloodshed. "I quit, Ric," Mick repeated. "I quit." _

_The referee—who had clearly wanted to stop this match five minutes ago—gratefully motioned for the bell, before turning to Flair and persuading him to drop the 'Barbie'. The Nature Boy's music hit, drowning out everything else. _

_Melina, however, couldn't take her eyes off of Mick Foley. She stared at him, slowly comprehending that he had forfeited his match, his PRIDE…to protect her…_

Nitro pressed his lips together. This was starting to get ridiculous. Melina never made mistakes like this, and the fact that she had chosen _this_ segment as the site of her first irritated him even more. Praying that the cameras wouldn't pick it up, he shot out his left foot, catching her in the ankle. He hadn't meant to do it so hard, but it was the only method he could think of to get her attention.

Melina started, and then looked up slowly, as though coming out of a deep trance. For a moment, the Intercontinental Champion though that she was going to glare at him with reproach for kicking her, but the paparazzi princess continued to stare straight ahead, her features taking on that countenance of haughty disdain that the world knew so well.

The Dominant Diva leaned closer to the mic. "I want to make one thing clear," she began, her strident voice showing no signs of nervousness. Her brown eyes narrowed, and her lips drew back from her teeth even further. "I would _never_ let Mick Foley touch me!"

At this, Nitro relaxed. _There_ was the Melina he remembered; not the mute statue he had been staring at a moment ago.

Melina looked around the arena, hesitating for a second. Instantly, the "Boring" chants started, and she raised her voice angrily. "Mick had a crush on me!" she sneered. "He prides himself on being a _regular _person—and I don't associate myself with _regular _people!"

Tears were climbing up her throat, but she swallowed them, forced them back—because it was too late, too late to let this audience and the rest of the world know that she really did care. Too late…to take back her betrayal. "He's disgusting," she added. "I would _never_ leave Johnny Nitro for a one-eared smelly Muppet like Foley!"

As she spoke, telling this audience what they expected to hear out of her, the paparazzi princess couldn't hear the indifferent jeers; she couldn't even hear the sound of her own voice. The only noise reverberating in her ears was the mournful tone of Mick's voice as he gasped out the two words that the worst violence had not been able to drag out of him.

_I quit, Ric…_

_Don't hurt her…_

_I quit…

* * *

  
_

As soon as they returned to the backstage area, Melina pushed Nitro's arm off her shoulders, pulling away from him. "I need some air," she muttered under her breath, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth.

"Mel, wait!" the Intercontinental Champion called after her. "Come on!" But Melina was already gone, disappearing around a corner, moving faster on a pair of spike heels than he would have anticipated. Nitro pushed his sunglasses up onto the top of his head, frowning in bewilderment. "Wonder what's up with her?" he asked to no one in particular.

Melina maneuvered through the labyrinth of corridors, trying to find one that was deserted, trying to find a place where she could let out this emotion bubbling up inside her without fear of anyone seeing.

She finally located a hallway where there were no equipment crates, no supply tables, no other bodies of any kind. The paparazzi princess pressed her forehead against the wall, her hands over her face, her shaking shoulders the only indication that she was crying.

She had always known that she was alone, but right now was the first time that she genuinely _felt_ alone. The rest of the roster thought she was nothing more than an ambitious bitch; even Nitro saw her as cold-hearted. There was no place where she could drop her A-list snob persona and just be _herself_.

But what was _herself_? Was she truly a good person…or was that just another façade as well?

"I'm not a bad person," the Dominant Diva whispered. "I'm _not_…"

_Aren't you?..._the cold little voice inside of her whispered, the one that sounded suspiciously like her on-camera character. _Foley thought you were a good person…and look what happened to him…_

"Stop it…"

_Yeah, you were touched by all of the blog posts and all of the nice things that he wrote, but in the end, that didn't stop you from turning on him when you got the chance. That didn't STOP you from hitting him with that low blow, before telling him that he was fired…_

"Please stop…" Melina pleaded. "Stop it…" Hadn't she said the same thing once before…only hadn't she been begging for Foley's _life_ then?

_This conscience you seemed to have developed…maybe THAT'S the mask that you put on, while this ruthless bitch that everyone knows—THAT'S the real Melina…_

Melina spun around, leaned back against the cinderblock wall and looking up at the ceiling, tears trickling down her cheeks. "What other choice did I have?" she asked the empty air, her voice full of dull pain. "What was I _supposed_ to do, spend the rest of my career hanging around that loser?" She shook her head. "It wasn't my fault."

_But it WAS…_the little voice retorted. _It WAS your fault, Melina…_

The paparazzi princess closed her eyes again, letting out her breath in a low shuttering gasp. When had her life become this complicated? When had her own emotions become such a taboo quality?

As she stood there, releasing her captive feelings bit by bit, she heard footsteps off toward her right. It must be Nitro, coming to find her. The Dominant Diva quickly straightened up, swiping under her eyes with her hands, eradicating all evidence of her crying. She shifted her body, arranging her limbs in a slightly more seductive posture, and looked toward the direction of the sound, allowing her mouth to curve into a tiny smile—a smile which vanished when Jeff Hardy walked around the corner.

Both the Rainbow-Haired Warrior and the paparazzi princess froze when they saw each other. After a few moments had elapsed, Jeff glanced down at Melina's hands, which were empty. "Oh, it's _you_," he remarked, a thin vein of sarcasm threading through his voice. "I didn't recognize you without your cell phone."

Melina's eyes narrowed and she sucked in an indignant breath, drawing in enough oxygen to utter a retort, but the Charismatic Enigma wasn't finished. He brought his eyes back up to her face, the intensity of his green gaze pressing against her skin like a weight. Jeff frowned. "You're not going to run into me again, are you?"

The Dominant Diva let out a low burble of harsh laughter, her lips curling into a smirk. "_You wish_," she shot back. Pushing her body off the wall, she sauntered toward Jeff, allowing him to see every curve, showing him what he could never possibly attain. The paparazzi princess leaned forward, knowing that she was giving him a spectacular view down the front of her top. "You just can't _wait_ to put your hands on me again, can you?"

Jeff, however, didn't fall for her bait. His green eyes remained glued to her face, and she thought she saw a trace of a smile touch his mouth. "Funny," the Rainbow-Haired Warrior replied. "I could say the same thing about you—since _you're_ the one who keeps running into _me_."

Melina's smirk evaporated and she straightened up, moving back a step. "Screw you," she spat, her voice full of venom.

Jeff shook his head, the smile definitely visible by now. "Not if you _paid_ me, princess." His retort was enough to shock the Dominant Diva into silence; she merely stood there, mouth moving, but no words coming out. The Charismatic Enigma shrugged, and shoving his hands into his pockets, eased past her, continuing his journey down the hall.

He had only gone a few feet before Melina regained her voice. "By the way…good luck tonight," the paparazzi princess called out.

Jeff stopped, but didn't turn around. When he did respond, his voice was light, with only the barest hint of annoyance. "I didn't know that you cared."

"I _don't_," Melina leisurely spun around on one slim heel, tilting her head to the side. She strolled over to where the Rainbow-Haired Warrior stood, still talking as she moved. "I'm just looking forward to seeing my man Johnny _kick your ass_—something he _should_ have done a few days ago."

"Then why did you stop him?" Jeff whirled around, his affable expression gone. He took a step toward the Dominant Diva, shortening the distance between them. The Charismatic Enigma shook his head. "You know what? It doesn't even matter. Bring it on, princess, 'cause I'm not stopping 'til I get your boyfriend's Intercontinental Championship."

The paparazzi princess made a soft derisive sound. "_Please_. I know all about _you_, _Jeff Hardy_." She took a step forward as well; now they were practically nose-to-nose. Melina lowered her voice to a malicious purr. "You're just a has-been, washed-up, former _junkie_…everyone _knows_ that if you even make it to the big dance, you're just going to choke." She lifted her chin a bit. "Like what you see? Well, take a _good_ _look_, because, just like Nitro's title, _this_ is something that you'll _never_ get."

Silence followed her remark, and the Dominant Diva smirked, thinking that she had finally achieved the last word. She turned to go—only to hear Jeff reply in a quiet voice: "You know…I'm _glad_ that we'll never be friends." He paused for a moment. "I've heard what you do to your 'friends'." He uttered the final word in a long sarcastic drawl. Melina cast her gaze toward the floor, feeling her smile fade.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior's gaze flicked upward for a second, then back down to her face. "By the way…_nice hair_." Turning back around, he continued walking, turning a corner and disappearing from her sight.

For several heartbeats, Melina remained where she was, blinking slowly as she struggled to comprehend this deliberate rejection. She curled the fingers of one hand into claws, and with a furious shriek, she reached up and tore at her elaborate coiffure. Bobby pins flew everywhere, hitting the floor with tiny metallic PINGs. Her hair came loose, falling down to cover her face.

The paparazzi princess pushed her reddish-brown locks back with both hands, her whole body shaking as she once again struggled to rein in her tears.

* * *

Jeff nailed Randy Orton with a boot to the gut, looping his arm around the Legend Killer's neck. Jumping up and twisting his body in mid-air, he slammed the third-generation star into the mat with a Twist of Fate.

All over the arena, the fans leapt to their feet, knowing what was coming next. Pushing his multicolored hair back from his face, the Charismatic Enigma staggered to the nearest turnbuckle. He deftly climbed the ropes to the top, and pausing for a moment, he dove head-first toward the prone figure of Orton, nailing him with the Swanton.

The crowd leapt to their feet, obscuring Melina's view of the action, but she could see hear the thud of the referee's hand as it connected with the mat, along with the fan's chants: 1…2…_3_.

The ovation that followed was deafening; the Dominant Diva could barely make out Jeff's entrance music. She couldn't even see the Rainbow-Haired Warrior anymore; all she could see was fans on their feet, displaying an enthusiasm that had been totally absent during her 'press conference' with Nitro.

The paparazzi princess stood at the door of one of the ground exits. From her vantage point, she was just able to see the ring and the entrance ramp. Once the match had started, she had made her way to this point, watching the bout from behind the door, hoping none of the audience would spot her.

She could have watched the match from the luxurious privacy of her and Nitro's dressing room, but after the 'press conference', she still didn't think that she was capable of looking her boyfriend in the face and pretending not to care. Besides, as strange as it might sound…she wanted to watch Jeff Hardy wrestle.

Melina told herself that she was just being a good manager and a good girlfriend; she was scouting her boyfriend's competition ahead of time. But some inner voice, some deep-rooted intuition told her that it was more than that; that there was a reason she felt compelled to gravitate toward the Charismatic Enigma…and it had nothing to do with Johnny Nitro.

_That's crazy..._the Dominant Diva told herself. _I don't even LIKE him; why would I be observing his match if it wasn't strictly business?..._

_Maybe that's the question that YOU should be answering…_the annoying little voice shot back.

Melina didn't get the chance to offer a mental reply before another voice—a _real_ voice—interrupted her: "Mel! There you are!"

The paparazzi princess whirled around, her eyes widening at the sight of the Intercontinental Champion hurrying toward her. "Johnny! You scared me!" she exclaimed.

Nitro reached her side, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. "I've been looking everywhere for you, baby," he replied. His handsome face creased in a frown. "What happened tonight? Why'd you run off?"

Melina's mind abruptly went blank, and she struggled to think of an appropriate response. "Oh, _that…_I, uh—"she stammered. "I-I had a stomach ache! I've had it all evening, and…I thought that I was going to puke. That's why I froze up during the press conference; I was trying not to barf all over the podium."

The Intercontinental Champion immediately backed away, his expression wary. "You're not catching something, are you? 'Cause I can't afford to get sick, not with a title match next week—"

His girlfriend shook her head. Secretly, she was annoyed that when she mentioned illness—as faux as it might be—Nitro's first thought was for himself and not for her. "I'm fine," Melina assured him, hiding her irritation. "I just need to eat something and lie down."

"Oh, okay. _Good_." Nitro answered, obviously relieved. Melina noticed, however, that he remained where he was. The Intercontinental Champion glanced behind her, frowning once again when he saw the open door. "What's you _doing_ back here, anyway?"

"Here?" the Dominant Diva replied, trying to sound nonchalant. Which was ridiculous…because what reason did she had to feel guilty? "I was just…checking out your competition." She turned toward the door as well, grateful to be able to break eye contact with Nitro. "Looks like that loser managed to do it after all," the paparazzi princess remarked bitterly, crossing her arms over her chest.

She felt Nitro's hand on her shoulder. "Yeah, well, he got lucky. If Carlito hadn't been there for the distraction, Orton would be the number one contender right now." The Intercontinental Champion tugged gently, turning Melina back around. "Don't worry about it, babe. Like you said, when the time comes, he'll drop the ball—and if he doesn't do it on his own, you'll be there to help him drop it."

"Yes…yes, I will," the Dominant Diva replied, hoping Nitro wouldn't notice how mechanical her voice sounded. The Intercontinental Champion grinned, reaching down to take Melina's hand in his. _Still afraid of cooties…_the paparazzi princess thought sourly. Readjusting his sunglasses, Nitro turned and led Melina down the hall.

They had only gone a few yards before Melina stopped, looking up tentatively at her boyfriend. "Johnny, could I ask you a question?" The Intercontinental Champion gazed at her expectantly. The Dominant Diva reached up with her free hand, nervously touching her hair, which now tumbled loosely over her shoulders in brown, red, and blond waves. "Do you like my hair this way…or the way it was before?"

Nitro frowned. "You mean it was different before?" Melina stared at him incredulously for a few seconds before realizing that her boyfriend was being completely serious.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she merely shook her head, looking away. "Never mind, Johnny," she finally said, resuming her original pace. Unbidden, a memory resurfaced in her mind—the probing intensity of Jeff Hardy's green eyes as he studied her face, the unintentional close proximity of their bodies…

"Never mind," the Dominant Diva whispered again, her voice suddenly husky.


	5. Chapter 5: Outside Interference

**A/N: WOW. Apologies from my end are definitely in order all around; I did not mean to go this long without updating. I had spring break, followed by the busiest month of my life. It's getting toward the end of the semester, and things are getting pretty hairy; plus, I had a CRIPPLING bout of writer's block. But hopefully, this nice long chapter will make up for my negligence, and I'm already hard at work on Chapter 6, so...enjoy! Peace!**

**Thank you to **Esha Napoleon, AshlynnxHearts, Oomph Kiddo, R Lucas Spitfire, RatedRCouture, miles89, wweroh, cherrycokerocks, Writinglove101, Baby Jayne, **and **wwechick24 **for reviewing! You guys are SO AWESOME! (no, really, you are)

* * *

**

Chapter 5: Outside Interference

Jeff ran the paint roller up and down the wall, covering its smooth surface with a fresh coating of white paint. Taking a step back, he clasped the roller in both hands, staring intently at his handiwork.

"Hey, Jeff!"

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior turned to see Maria standing right at his elbow. The backstage reporter was clad in an adorable little red halter top and white skirt, her beautiful face lit up in a sunny smile. Jeff matched it with one of his own. "Hey," he replied.

Maria glanced from him to the newly painted wall, blinking her big green eyes slowly. "Whatcha doing?" she asked.

Jeff followed her gaze and shrugged his shoulders as though the answer was obvious. "I'm watching Nitro and Melina's press conference from last week."

The backstage reporter looked back at him, her features twisting in her trademark expression of clueless confusion. "Hmmm…" she murmured. "It looks like you're watching paint dry."

The Charismatic Enigma bowed his head, his small smile becoming a huge satisfied grin. He glanced back up at Maria, uttering only one word in response: "_Exactly_." Handing her the paint-covered roller, he gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder and quickly strolled away. Maria turned back toward the wall, studying it as though trying to discern its true meaning.

"Cut! That was good!" The puzzled countenance vanished from Maria's face and she knelt down, carefully setting the roller back into the paint-filled tray on the floor. From around the corner, Jeff jogged back into view, coming up next to Maria and slinging an affectionate arm around her shoulders. Both of them stared expectantly at the cameraman in front of them, who had just set the electronic device down on the floor and was extracting a tape from somewhere inside its depths. "Hey, man, how'd it look?" the Rainbow-Haired Warrior enquired.

The cameraman lifted his gaze and gave them a thumbs-up. "Pretty good. I'm gonna have to run it by Vince before I hand it off, but I think there's a good chance it'll end up on the show tonight."

"Cool; thanks, man." The Charismatic Enigma turned back toward Maria, giving her a quick hug. "Thanks, Ria, for helping me out. I owe you one."

The backstage reporter waved it off. "No prob, Jeff. Anyway…you know how good I am at playing dumb."

"Maybe because you're anything but," Jeff replied, giving her shoulder a friendly squeeze.

A week had elapsed; seven long days that seemed to tick by with infinitesimal slowness, but they had gone by nonetheless and the next edition of Monday Night Raw had rolled around. It was a new city, a new venue, a new chance to entertain the WWE fans—but more than that, it was the night of Jeff's championship opportunity against Johnny Nitro.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior didn't get intimidated; he had simply been through too much during the span of his career, of his _life_, to really be nervous about anything. However, he was well aware that tonight's match marked a crucial crossroads in his second stint with the WWE. Even though he had earned his title shot, he knew that he had been extremely lucky to even have been chosen for competition in the first place, and tonight was his chance to show the powers-that-be that they had indeed made the right choice in letting him come back.

However, just because Jeff was beyond intimidation didn't mean that he was above psyching out his opponents. And considering how his first encounter with Nitro had ended—that wannabe was practically begging to get knocked off his pedestal.

He had gotten the idea for the backstage segment after remembering the ill-fated "press conference" from the previous week. The whole segment hadn't been boring so much as just _painful_; Nitro in particular seemed to have no clue how dead the audience was. And Melina—she had looked like she wanted to be anywhere but behind that podium. Seeing her uncomfortable expression had almost made Jeff feel sorry for her.

_Almost._

The thing about Melina was that whenever Jeff got these small inklings of sympathy for her, he inevitably ended up running into her. And whenever _that_ happened, he always walked away with the conviction that if the paparazzi princess _did_ possess a heart, it must be carved out of solid stone.

Most likely, she _didn't_ have one, period.

Anyway, the Charismatic Enigma had thought of the phrase "as boring as watching paint dry" after spotting one of the paint cans sitting in his trunk. Most of the veteran Superstars knew that the younger Hardy brother, in addition to being a daredevil and a risk-taker, was also an artist. Many of them could recall him hanging out at the back of the arena or parking garage, canvas in front of him, brush in hand, and three or four open paint cans at his feet. As a result, Jeff always brought painting supplies to every venue. The spirit didn't always strike him (in fact, he hadn't painted once since he'd been back) but he was safe in the knowledge that if it _did_ strike, he was ready to act on that spark of inspiration.

He'd asked Maria to help him; she in turn had coaxed a cameraman into taping them, and now, barring any disapproval from Mr. McMahon, the segment would air on tonight's broadcast of Raw. And hopefully, it would be seen by a certain Intercontinental Champion and his banshee of a girlfriend.

Jeff turned back toward Maria, wrapping his arm a little tighter around her shoulders. "Hey," he ventured tentatively. The backstage reporter looked up at him, her large eyes expectant. "Tonight, after the show…you want to have dinner with me? My treat."

Maria's face instantly brightened, her lips curving in a radiant smile. "Sure!" she chirped. "That would be awesome!"

"Great!" Jeff replied, mentally kicking himself for not having anything more insightful to say.

For several seconds, the two of them stood there awkwardly before Maria cleared her throat, drawing back from the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. "Well, I should probably go…get ready for the show and stuff. But before I do—" She stopped, putting her hand on his arm, and tiptoeing up, kissed Jeff softly on the cheek. "For good luck." the Raw Diva whispered.

Jeff turned his head toward hers, his mouth almost grazing hers. For a moment, the pair remained like that, drinking in their mutual close proximity. Finally, with a reluctant sigh, Maria pulled away. "I'll see you later," she whispered. "'Bye."

"'Bye," the Charismatic Enigma managed to answer, but by then, the backstage reporter had already left. Jeff turned, staring at the spot where she had stood, before smacking himself in the forehead with the heel of his hand.

_Smooth move there, Sparky_…he thought sourly. He could dive headfirst off a thirty-foot ladder, push his body to the brink of its physical limitations, but yet he couldn't even make the first move with a pretty—no, _gorgeous_—girl standing right in front of him. Maria had been waiting for him to take initiative, to take that crucial first step—but Jeff had failed to do so.

What was the matter with him? He liked Maria, he really did—and he knew that she liked him. But Jeff had had his heart broken enough times to know that being in love was like hitting that Swanton—when you fell, you _fell_. And as much as he liked Raw's backstage reporter…with her, he always felt like both of his feet were still on the ground. More than that—he felt as though he was holding back some part of himself whenever he was with her, like he was waiting for something more.

Why was he holding back…and what was he waiting for? Jeff didn't know, and unfortunately, he didn't have time tonight to find out. Right now, he had a title match to win, an Intercontinental Champion to piss off, and a meddling Diva to watch out for—though not necessarily in that order.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior turned to gaze at his handiwork one final time, his mouth curving up in a grin as he admired his impromptu paint job. Too bad he wouldn't get the chance to gauge Nitro's reaction to this little piece of video mockery; he would have given _anything_ to see the look on the Intercontinental Champion's face…

* * *

"Son of a _bitch_!"

Nitro rose to his feet, angrily hurling his water bottle at the wall. The plastic container cracked when it made contact, spilling its contents onto the concrete floor. The Intercontinental Champion began to pace, one hand clamped protectively over his blue-and-gold title belt, while he ran the other through his blond-streaked brown hair. "The _nerve_ of that loser!" he exclaimed. "Can you believe this guy, Mel? Jeff Hardy is _damn_ lucky to even be _in_ this match—_especially_ after what he did to you last week! Who the _hell_ does he think he is; acting like he's _better_ than us?"

"Relax, Johnny," his girlfriend called out from her vantage point next to the makeup mirror, but Nitro didn't seem to hear.

The Intercontinental Champion ground to a halt, his handsome face twisted with loathing. "I don't see _his_ name on this title belt!" To punctuate this statement, he lifted up the Intercontinental Championship, shaking it a little. "You and me, Mel—we're A-listers. We are the _hottest_ things on Raw, SmackDown, _or_ ECW! Where the hell does a burnout like _Jeff Hardy_ get off saying that we're _boring_?"

Melina started to say something in reply, but stopped herself, rolling her eyes instead. Whenever Johnny got like this, there really was no point in reasoning with him. Her best bet would be to hang back, wait for him to get all of this outrage out of his system—and pray that she would be able to stop him if he tried to do anything stupid.

The paparazzi princess turned around to gaze at her reflection in the mirror. As usual, the image staring back at her passed inspection: revealing (but not _too_ revealing) red halter top, camouflage-print miniskirt, reddish-brown hair perfectly curled and spilling down past her shoulders. But yet, something about her reflection seemed out-of-place, as though something was missing. It took her a few seconds more to realize that her usual confident arrogant demeanor was absent for once, replaced by an almost alien expression of anxious unhappiness. The Dominant Diva quickly ducked her head, lest Nitro see the look on her face and comment on it.

It wasn't so much what Jeff had said that made her so upset—although it definitely contributed to her foul mood. After all, the Charismatic Enigma had lumped her in with Nitro; had implied that they were boring when in reality, they were far from it. No…it was the fact that the Rainbow-Haired Warrior had taken one of the most agonizing experiences of her life, and trivialized it down into insignificance.

Melina was not stupid; she knew that last week's "press conference" wasn't going to win any big awards for Promo of the Year. But she had gone out there regardless, had pouted and preened and generally reinforced her persona as Raw's uber-bitch—all the while masking behind said persona the one secret she could not divulge to anybody, not even to Nitro.

She didn't hate Mick Foley.

Two weeks ago, she had betrayed the Hardcore Legend, had nailed him with a low blow before firing him—but she didn't hate him. She didn't even dislike him. If she had to ascribe a state of mind of her perception of Foley, it would be that she felt sorry for him, more than anything else.

But it was more than simple pity that fueled her guilt. Foley was the one person on any of the rosters that had refused to buy into the distrust and the dislike surrounding MNM's former manager. Despite all the warnings that he must have gotten, the Hardcore Legend had offered her his friendship. At first, Melina had been wary; in her experience, nothing was ever offered without strings attached. But as Foley persisted, she gradually realized that he was befriending her merely because he wanted to be her friend. And as time went on, the paparazzi princess grew to trust the Hardcore Legend, opening up to him emotionally as she'd never been able to with Nitro.

But in the end, her vanity and her ambition had gotten in the way. While part of Melina was flattered by the attention Foley doted on her, another part of her was disgusted by him. He might have been sweet; however, that didn't change the fact that he was also missing an ear, or that he never shaved, or that he insisted on wearing that same repulsive plaid shirt every time he came out to the ring. Not to mention that Nitro treated Foley with nothing but contempt—contempt he seemed more than willing to extend to his girlfriend for associating herself with the Hardcore Legend.

So when Mr. McMahon had called her into his office, and asked her to be the vehicle for Mick Foley's downfall, she had said yes without hesitating. Sure, Mick was her friend…but he had outlived his usefulness, and besides, the good graces of Vince McMahon were not something that you turned down. She had assumed that the tiny twinge of conscience she felt at her betrayal would eventually go away. She had no way of knowing that, over time, it would grow and grow, until Melina could barely think straight through the voice shouting in her head, endlessly reminding her that of all the shitty things she had done, this was by far the shittiest.

Which brought her back to Jeff Hardy. Somehow, without saying a word (really, that little bimbo Maria had done most of the talking), he had taken last week's acknowledgment of her treachery, and turned it back around on _her_. Without mentioning Foley's name, he had taken a jab at _her_…and had hit his target. Last week's segment had left her on the verge of a panic attack—yet the Rainbow-Haired Warrior had made her seem like a spoiled little drama queen crying over a broken nail.

_I'm glad we'll never be friends…I've seen what you do to your 'friends'…_

What was it about the younger Hardy that frustrated her so much? Whenever she was around Jeff, she had this sense of not being in control—a sensation which terrified her as much as infuriated her. The paparazzi princess had always thrived on being the one in charge of the situation. While on SmackDown, she had reigned supreme over the Diva roster, and had kept a tight leash on Mercury and Nitro. Here on Raw, she might not be the Women's Champion, but she was still a force to be reckoned with. Superstars or Divas who crossed her path quickly came to regret it. And while she had loosened her grip on Nitro's leash since he had become Intercontinental Champion…she hadn't loosened it _that_ much.

There was a reason she called herself the Dominant Diva.

But somehow, the Charismatic Enigma managed to evade the finely woven net she had thrown over everyone and everything else. Whenever they encountered one another, Melina could never quite get the upper hand on him, no matter how hard she tried. She couldn't seem to get to him—while he _always _managed to get to her. He truly was an enigma, simultaneously irritating and fascinating at the same time. She couldn't stand Jeff Hardy—but she also couldn't stop thinking about him.

_You're only concerned because he's after Johnny's championship…_the Dominant Diva told herself firmly. _Once Johnny beats him tonight, he'll disappear into the woodwork and you can go back to having nothing to do with him again…_ But even as she reasoned with herself, her logic felt flawed. For one thing, the determination she had last seen gleaming in Jeff's eyes was a more than ample indication that defeat was not going to slow down the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. Even if he lost tonight, he was going to keep battling his way back until he had claimed Nitro's title as his own.

Also, try as she might, she could never quite banish the notion that her interest in the younger Hardy brother had nothing to do with Johnny Nitro or the Intercontinental Championship—and that there was more between the two of them than just mutual hatred.

Thankfully, at that moment, Nitro's voice broke through her reverie, distracting her from her dangerous train of thought and jarring her back to the present: "—asshole crossed the line; I'm gonna go kick his ass—"

Instantly, the paparazzi princess crossed the room, planting herself between Nitro and the door, holding up both of her hands in a placating gesture. "Whoa! Johnny! _Johnny_! Hold on, okay?" She moved a little closer to her boyfriend, her gaze glued to his face as she spoke. "This is just what he _wants_; don't you get it? He _wants _you to get mad. For all we know, he wants you to storm out after him, just so he can hit you with a stepladder or whatever the hell he uses." The Dominant Diva reached up to caress Nitro's face, feeling some of the tension ease out of him at her touch. "In a few minutes, you'll be in the ring with him, where _you'll_ have the advantage. And if that nobody gets knocked to the outside…" Melina shrugged innocently. "Well…that's why _I'm_ here." She flicked her eyes back up to his face, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Do _not_ let that loser get to you, baby."

Nitro stared back at her, and after several long tense moments, eventually sighed. "You're right, Mel," The Intercontinental Champion did not sound placated, however; merely grudgingly petulant. "As always, _you're right_." Was that a hint of sarcasm in his tone? Melina couldn't tell, and in the next instant, Nitro had pulled his designer sunglasses down over his eyes, effectively shielding his gaze from her view. "You ready to go?" While the sarcasm might have been debatable, there was no mistaking the impatience that had crept into his voice.

The paparazzi princess managed to hide her annoyance, making a mental note to have a little…_discussion_…with Johnny tonight after the show. He might be the Intercontinental Champion, but it was time she _reminded_ him who was _really_ in charge. Melina's full lips curled into a haughty smile. "Just a second," she cooed. Taking hold of Nitro's arm, she swung her body around to face the mirror, taking in her appearance one final time. With her free hand, she used her index finger to flick back an errant red-brown tress of hair. That accomplished, she swung back around to her original position in front of the Intercontinental Champion.

"_Now_ I'm ready."

* * *

Jeff shook his head a little, trying to regain his senses. It wasn't easy; Nitro had him in a rear chin lock—a maneuver which was gradually cutting off the flow of oxygen to his brain—and had the damn thing cinched in good. It was taking all of his concentration, all of his _energy_, just to figure out how to break free before his strength was completely sapped.

A feat which wasn't being made any easier by the shrieking banshee at ringside.

Melina pounded on the ring apron with one perfectly manicured hand, holding onto the bottom rope with the other. "Come on, Nitro," she cried. "Get him!"

_SHUT UP!..._the Charismatic Enigma thought angrily to himself, but verbalized nothing. Berating Melina—as cathartic and well-deserved as it might be—would accomplish nothing. Right now, he had a submission hold to break out of.

Slowly, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior got to his knees, then to his feet. Locking his hands together, he drove his elbow into Nitro's gut once, twice, forcing the Intercontinental Champion to loosen the hold. Jeff staggered toward the corner, Nitro's arm still looped around his windpipe. He drew his arm back for a third elbow, but Nitro was quicker, releasing the submission hold and driving the younger Hardy brother into the corner with a modified Spear.

Jeff gagged as all the air was driven out of his lean frame. His entire body (in particular his lower back) was a throbbing network of pain. He couldn't even lift his arms to defend himself as Nitro lifted him bodily up, setting him on top of the turnbuckle and nailing him with a hard right hook to the jaw.

The Intercontinental Champion climbed the ropes, wrapping his arm around Jeff's neck again and pulling him to his feet to deliver a superplex. As soon as he felt his feet balancing unsteadily on the top rope, a burst of adrenaline slammed into Jeff, momentarily clearing his head. Moving purely on instinct, he jumped up and twisted around in mid-air, breaking free from Nitro's grip and landing safely on his feet in the ring.

The Intercontinental Champion was not so lucky; the maneuver knocked him off the ropes, almost tangling him up in the Tree of Woe. While the self-proclaimed A-lister tried to regain his footing, Jeff took advantage of the situation. Slipping under Nitro, he lifted the Intercontinental Champion up onto his shoulders, moving back toward the center of the ring. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior paused for a moment, and then fell back toward the mat, driving Nitro into the canvas with the Electric Chair.

As soon as his body touched down on the ring, Jeff felt pain flare upward through every limb. He lay there, dazed, listening to the various sounds filtering into his consciousness. Melina shrieking at ringside. The fans stomping and clapping their support. The authoritative bellow of referee Jack Doan's voice as he began the ten-count. The Charismatic Enigma felt his eyes start to drift close, and for a second, he was tempted to just let unconsciousness claim him. After all, it would be so much easier just to go to sleep and forget about the match. But as soon as the thought flitted across his brain, Jeff's eyes flew open. What was he thinking? This wasn't just any match; this was for the _Intercontinental Championship_. Besides…he was Jeff Hardy. The only way he was going to go down, the only way he would _ever_ go down, was fighting.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior rolled over onto his side, gingerly getting to his knees. A few feet away, he saw that Nitro was in the same predicament. Doan had just reached nine when both Superstars regained their footing, Nitro just a half-second quicker.

The Intercontinental Champion stormed toward Jeff, intending to take full advantage of this minute opportunity, but the Charismatic Enigma shot his fist out in defense, catching Nitro in the abdomen. Straightening up with visible effort, Jeff nailed the self-proclaimed A-lister with a few more shots, forcing Nitro back against the ropes. He grabbed Nitro's arm, swinging him into an Irish whip, but the Intercontinental Champion reversed the momentum. Jeff hit the ropes and launched himself back toward Nitro, taking down the pretty boy with a flying shoulder block.

Melina screamed, her shrill voice digging into Jeff's brain like needles, but the Rainbow Haired Warrior tuned her out. He was in the zone now, his mind and body operating in perfect harmony. Every move, every block, came to him naturally, without effort, and the Charismatic Enigma relinquished himself to the flow.

Nitro got unsteadily to his feet, only to be taken down with a clothesline. He rose a second time, but once again, was met with Jeff's forearm. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior hauled him up, pushing him against the ropes and swinging him into another Irish whip. This time, Nitro was too dazed to reverse it, hitting the opposite set of ropes and staggering right into a back body drop. Jeff grabbed the Intercontinental Champion's legs, dropping down into a pinning combination. In a flash, Doan was right next to him, slamming his hand down on the mat.

1…2…

The fans groaned in exasperation as Nitro managed to flip his body out of the pin. The Intercontinental Champion got to his feet, staggering to the corner to catch his breath. Jeff chased after him, intending to nail him with a few more hard shots, but instead was hit with a boot right to the jaw.

The Charismatic Enigma stumbled back, clutching his face with both hands. He had just ascertained that nothing was broken when he caught a flicker of movement at the corner of his vision, and glanced up just in time to see an airborne Nitro hurdling toward him. Jeff caught the self-proclaimed A-lister awkwardly and the two Superstars fell to the mat.

Nitro must have intended to follow the cross-body up with a pin, but Jeff was able to use the Intercontinental Champion's own momentum against him, rolling over and hooking his leg for the cover.

1…2…

Nitro jerked his right shoulder off the canvas, shoving the Rainbow-Haired Warrior off him. Jeff didn't pause. Using the ropes, he pulled himself back to his feet. He turned back toward the Intercontinental Champion. Nitro was crawling on his hands and knees with obvious effort, trying to make it to the ropes. He had just gotten one fingertip on the middle rope when Jeff grabbed a handful of his blond-streaked hair, hauling him ungraciously back up into a standing position.

Grasping Nitro by the wrist, he Irish-whipped him toward the far corner. Nitro was still too out of it to counter, and connected violently with the turnbuckle sternum-first. As he stumbled back toward the center, Jeff jogged around him easily, nimbly scaling to the top turnbuckle and flipping his body backward to nail Nitro with Whisper in the Wind.

The two Superstars hit the canvas with a resounding crash; Jeff was sure that he actually felt the ring shake. Off to his left, he could hear Melina screaming incoherently, her shrill cries loud and piercing enough to shatter glass. Jeff draped his body over Nitro, not even bothering to hook his leg this time.

1…2…

This time, it was Nitro's left shoulder that shot off the mat. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior sat up, grimacing in frustration. How could one pretty boy have so much fight left in him? If he wasn't such a total douchebag, Jeff could have almost admired him. Instead, the Charismatic Enigma's green eyes narrowed, as he quickly considered his next plan of attack. His gaze lit on the opposite turnbuckle post. Of course.

Getting back up, Jeff strode to the other corner of the ring, slipping between the ropes to the ring apron. He paused for a second or two, allowing the audience to absorb his choice of offense, before climbing the ropes to the top turnbuckle to deliver the Swanton.

He saw a flash of red dart toward him on his right, and looking over, saw Melina climb up onto the apron. Doan was able to intercept her before she could get close to Jeff, but that didn't stop the paparazzi princess from lunging toward him anyway, stabbing the air with her index finger. She yelled something derogatory, but the Charismatic Enigma barely heard it. For some reason, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her face. The passionate fire in her dark eyes, the hint of blond running through her reddish brown curls, the rise of her chest as she took in another lungful of air. Even though her face was contorted with fury and even though she was clearly on the side of the opposition, Jeff had to admit that she was, well, _beautiful._

And for one instant, one single moment in time, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior hesitated.

He wasn't really sure what happened next; all he remembered was feeling something knock him off balance, before tumbling down head over heels to the broad white expanse of the canvas. Jeff connected tailbone-first, his already-sore back crying out in even greater agony. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw Nitro hanging onto the ropes for support. Off to the side, Melina backed away from the ring, both arms extended in the air as she made a big show of playing innocent.

Jeff's green eyes narrowed to dangerously small slits. So that was how they played their little game: Melina provided the distraction, which allowed her boyfriend to slip in out of nowhere. Well, that was the last distraction they were going to get on Jeff Nero Hardy.

The Intercontinental Champion came out of the corner, his arms reaching for Jeff, but the Charismatic Enigma batted his hands away, nailing him instead with a stiff boot to the gut. Tucking Nitro's head under one arm, he held out his other, yelling wordlessly with anger and aggression. Jumping and twisting in midair, he slammed the self-proclaimed A-lister down to the mat with a brutal Twist of Fate. The fans erupted into a cacophony of cheering. Jeff picked himself up, crawling on hands and knees to get the pin, the Intercontinental Championship so close that he could almost feel its cool polished surface beneath his fingers…

1…2…

But instead of the third and final vibration of Doan's hand hitting the mat, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior instead heard the referee's outraged shout: "What the hell are you doing?"

Looking over in surprise, Jeff's eyes widened when he saw Melina in the ring, both of her hands wrapped tightly around Doan's wrist. Incredible—the harpy had actually threw herself into the squared circle and grabbed the referee's hand before he could complete the three-count. The corner of Jeff's mouth twitched in a smile. The little princess must _really_ be desperate. His amusement didn't last long, however, as Doan pried his wrist free, scrambling to his feet and motioning for the bell, calling for a disqualification.

The Charismatic Enigma's mouth dropped open in shock and outrage. "You've gotta be fucking _kidding_ me—" he muttered under his breath, getting to his knees. That was all he got out before Nitro was somehow magically on his feet again, driving an elbow into Jeff's spine.

The still-Intercontinental Champion got back to his feet, his handsome features twisted with distaste. "You fucking piece of shit—" he spat. He reached down, grabbing a handful of Jeff's multihued hair and pulling him to his feet. Jeff barely heard him, however; all he was aware of was a barely discernible veil of red clamping down over his vision…

Swinging his hands up, he broke Nitro's grip, taking hold of the pretty boy's hair and throwing him down with a facebuster. Without even pausing, he climbed the top turnbuckle and dove downward to nail the Intercontinental Champion with the Swanton, hearing the satisfying "OOOF" as all of the air was driven out of Nitro's lungs.

The offensive maneuver took almost as much out of Jeff as it did out of Nitro, and for a few seconds, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior lay on the canvas, trying to will his limbs back into obedience. He gradually opened his eyes, and was greeted by the familiar concerned face of Jack Doan. "You all right, Jeff?" The Charismatic Enigma said nothing; only rolled over onto his stomach, and pushed himself to his knees, then his feet.

His eyes immediately locked onto the familiar figures of the A-list couple. Melina was supporting a dazed Nitro, almost collapsing between her boyfriend's weight. Her expression, as she glanced back toward the ring, was fearful. Nitro looked like he didn't even know where he was at; the only thing he seemed capable of doing was holding onto his precious Intercontinental Championship with both arms.

Jeff felt Doan tentatively raise his own arm in victory, and quickly yanked it away, annoyed. "What the hell are you doing that for?" he asked furiously. His gaze swung back to the A-list couple retreating up the ramp. "I didn't win anything," he added under his breath.

As though his eyes had a mind of their own, he found himself staring at Melina once again. Her dark eyes locked onto his green ones, and there was just a moment, just an _instant_, where he could have sworn he saw her pause. Then, in the next moment, her terrified expression transformed into something spiteful and she began screaming, spitting out threats that he was—once again—too far away to hear.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior stared hard at the Dominant Diva, his own irritated countenance never changing. "Bring it on, princess," he whispered.

"_Bring it on…"

* * *

_

Melina steered Nitro toward an unoccupied corner of the gorilla position, carefully checking him for any injuries she might have missed out in the arena. "Johnny, are you all right?" she asked, her tone concerned. Reaching up, she touched her boyfriend's face, gently caressing his cheek. "How's your head feeling, baby?"

Nitro swatted her hand away irritably. "Jesus Christ, would you lay off for a second?" he snarled. "Just back off and give me a chance to breathe."

The paparazzi princess obliged, albeit warily. Johnny usually never snapped at her, and even though he had good cause to be in a foul mood—_no one_ wanted to be on the receiving end of a Swanton—there was something in his face, in his _voice_, that she just didn't like.

Nitro bent over, still clutching his blue-and-gold title belt to his chest, as he took in several deep breaths. That task accomplished, he glanced back up at her, exasperation still written across his features. "Where the _hell_ were you?" he demanded. Melina's mouth fell open in shock, and before she could muster enough breath to respond, the Intercontinental Champion rushed on. "How could you let him hit me with that fucking swan dive of his? That motherfucker _hurts_!" He held onto the Intercontinental Championship even tighter, as though the title belt was a magic blanky, capable of protecting him from monsters like Jeff Hardy.

The Dominant Diva stood there, frozen, for a second or two. She blinked slowly, trying to process what she had just heard. Then, all at once, her emotional flood gates burst open, her rage exploding outward. "Excuse me?" she replied, spitting out the syllables. "_Excuse me_? Where was _I_? I'm pretty sure that I was out there, saving _your ass_ from becoming a _former_ Intercontinental Champion!"

Nitro's aggravated countenance vanished, and he backed away, obviously already regretting his choice of words. But it was too late to take it back; Melina's fury had been unleashed. She took a step toward her boyfriend, feeling a small thrill at seeing him retreat from her. "And as for how could I…" She threw up her hands in an exaggerated gesture of ignorance. "What the hell was I supposed to do, Johnny? Throw myself on top of you as a human shield? He hates me just as much as he hates you—he would have Swantoned us both."

Melina's shoulders slumped, and she shook her head slowly, letting out a sigh. "I love you, Johnny," she finally said. "But sometimes, you are so fucking stupid—"

Her sentence was cut off as someone ran into her, knocking her off-balance. Nitro quickly put one arm out to steady her, pulling her against his chest before she could fall. Melina regained her footing, and looked around to see who the guilty culprit had been. Her brown eyes blazed with ire when she spotted a familiar figure making his way down the hall. Even from this distance, Jeff's purple hair was unmistakable.

The paparazzi princess carefully disentangled herself from Nitro's embrace, taking a step back. "Excuse me, baby," she cooed, her voice as cold and brittle as ice. "I'll take care of this."

Elbowing her way through the crush of bodies, she set off in pursuit of the Charismatic Enigma.

* * *

The younger Hardy brother must have been really pissed, since he didn't even seem to notice the sharp click of her boot heels on the concrete. Or maybe he _did_ notice, and was just ignoring her, hoping she would go away. Fat chance of that. Melina had _told_ Jeff that it would play out like this, and right now, after what she had gone through to secure a win for her man, she was entitled to a little gloating.

The two of them had come to a deserted hallway; Jeff out in front, the Dominant Diva several yards behind. Melina stopped, tilting her chin up haughtily. "Hey, Hardy!" she called out, her voice full of derision.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior ground to a halt, but didn't turn around. At his sides, his hands clenched into fists. Melina made her way toward him, putting one foot daintily in front of the other. "Told you couldn't get the job done." The triumph in her tone was evident. "Guess you'll have to put your tail between your legs and crawl back down whatever hole you crawled out of."

Jeff didn't respond; didn't even turn around. Melina paused, and for a moment, her smirk faltered, but she rapidly regained her confidence. "How does it feel?" she went. "Knowing you came back for _nothing_? Knowing you just showed the whole world how big a _loser_ you are?"

No answer from the Charismatic Enigma. Melina was starting to become unnerved; most guys would have cracked by now. Still, she forced herself to continue. She was almost at Jeff's side now. The paparazzi princess reached out, laying one slender-fingered hand on his arm. "Waste of time if you ask me; you were better off never coming back—"

Her flow of words was cut off as Jeff's fingers abruptly clamped around hers. His touch burned, and Melina gasped, struggled to pull herself free. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior whirled around, and the Dominant Diva slowly felt her resistance drain away. There was something in Jeff's green eyes that made her want to stop fighting.

The Charismatic Enigma regarded her hand for a second or two, and then flung it back toward her, releasing his grip. Melina stumbled back a pace or two, almost falling. Jeff raised his hand, pointing at her. His tone was terse, his Southern accent adding only the slightest slur to his voice. "_Don't…touch…me_, _princess_." There was nothing in his face; all of the intensity was in his voice…and his eyes. Jeff stared at the paparazzi princess for a second or two, his gaze making a subtle sweep of her body. "I'm not your boyfriend." Without adding anything further, he turned on his heel, moving away from her.

Melina stood there for a heartbeat or two, stunned. Slowly, she realized that she had just been appraised—and found lacking. The Dominant Diva's lips peeled back from her teeth in a snarl. Who the _hell_ did this guy think he was? She was the hottest Diva on Monday Night Raw—if there was anyone _lacking_, it was Jeff Hardy.

She stormed after the Rainbow-Haired Warrior, her boots beating out a furious rhythm on the cement. "Good!" she spat. "At least that's _one_ thing we agree on!" The paparazzi princess's beautiful features warped into a sneer. "Like I'd ever go for someone like you, anyway!" She halted, eying him with disdain. "You…you don't even measure up."

That did it. Before Melina knew what was happened, Jeff had turned around, moving with a quickness and ferocity she didn't know he was capable of. The Charismatic Enigma indicated himself. "_I _don't measure up?" he retorted. His emerald gaze burned into her. "Listen, princess, the only thing your _boyfriend_ proved tonight is that he can't even win a _match_ without his girlfriend's help."

Jeff was almost right in front of her, but he didn't stop, didn't even slow down. Melina was forced to back up away from him, almost falling over her stilettos in the process. In the back of her mind, she was vaguely aware that she might have gone too far. The Dominant Diva let out a yelp as the small of her back dug into the edge of an equipment crate. Before she could sidle around it, Jeff was on her, planting his hands on either side of the crate, pinning her between his arms.

Melina slowly tilted her head up, trying her best not to whimper. She wished that Johnny, that _anybody_, would come around the corner right now, giving her that half-second she needed to escape. But even as she thought it, she knew that it was pointless. Johnny wasn't coming. Nobody was coming. The only people here were her…and one very pissed-off Jeff Hardy.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior leaned down, his face only inches from hers. Melina could feel the heat coming off of him in waves; she could feel herself being drawn toward the warmth. She slowly lifted her gaze, studying Jeff's face: the curves and planes of his features, the unusual lines of his facial hair, and finally, his eyes. As soon as her eyes locked onto those green irises, Melina felt her stomach clench suddenly, as though someone had kicked her in the gut.

The younger Hardy brother was talking now, his breath hitting her face like a warm breeze. "And the only thing _you_ proved tonight is that you're nothing more than a golddigging _bitch_."

The insult was so unexpected that Melina didn't know how to react at first. For a moment, she stood there, mouth moving soundlessly. Then, with a shrill shriek, she swung her hand up, slapping Jeff across the face as hard as she could. The Charismatic Enigma's head snapped to the side, but his expression didn't change. He reached up and touched his cheek, where the red outline of a hand was gradually becoming visible. The corner of his mouth twitched upward in a smirk. "Thanks, princess," he remarked.

He turned, regarding the angry Diva in front of him. Melina's full lips were trembling; her chest rose and fell with each furious breath. Jeff's smile widened just a touch. He tapped his cheek. "I'll keep this in mind next time I start thinking that you might actually have a heart." Moving backward, he turned away from the paparazzi princess, strolling down the hall and turning a corner out of sight.

As soon as he disappeared from her view, the Dominant Diva screamed, her high-pitched voice echoing off the walls. She pushed her red-brown hair violent back from her face, almost hard enough to rip tresses out by the roots. Her heart was racing so fast that she thought she was going to have a stroke. Melina pressed both hands to her mouth, pacing back and forth for a few seconds.

All of a sudden, she stopped, her gaze shooting down to where she had last seen the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. Melina's dark eyes narrowed. That _shit_…didn't he know who he was _dealing _with? He could leave, but only after she _told_ him he could leave.

With swift furious strides, the paparazzi princess hurried after Jeff, rounding the corner, her mouth curving in a malicious smile at the sight of the younger Hardy brother near the end of the hallway—a smile which quickly vanished when she saw that he wasn't alone.

Maria was making a fuss over Jeff, checking him over with the same care and concern that Melina had shown toward Nitro only a few minutes early. Even from several yards away, the backstage reporter's bubbly Barbie-doll voice was clearly audible. "Oh my God, Jeff! I saw your match—are you okay?"

Jeff shook off her ministrations, though with considerably more affection than Nitro had shown. "I'm fine, 'Ria. Don't worry about it."

"Are you sure?" Maria pressed. "What happened to your face?" As Melina watched, the backstage reporter reached up, running her fingers gently down the Rainbow-Haired Warrior's cheek, her big eyes fixed adoringly on Jeff's face. The Charismatic Enigma glanced up, smiling, and reached over to cup Maria's cheek in his hand.

Melina felt her chest grow almost unbearably tight, and she felt an odd tickling sensation in her throat, as though she was trying to swallow her tears. Pressing her lips together in a thin line, she spun around, moving rapidly back the way she had come.

This was ridiculous. She was going to go back to gorilla, grab Johnny, and pretend that the last five minutes had never happened…

Jeff looked over sharply. The hallway off to his left was deserted, but he could have sworn that he had just seen something—

Maria followed his gaze, her countenance puzzled. "Jeff?" she asked, her tone concerned. "Jeff, what is it?"

The Charismatic Enigma turned back toward her, his face relaxed into a grin. "Nothing," he replied after a few seconds. Moving closer, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "C'mon, how about you come with me to the trainer's?" Maria's face brightened, and she eagerly nodded.

As the pair walked down the corridor, however, Jeff found his thoughts returning to that brief glimpse of movement, that flash of red that was all too familiar. But that was insane. To think that Melina had followed him, had seen him with Maria…

Even if she had…why would she care?

Even more importantly…why did he?


	6. Chapter 6: I Hate Everything About You

**A/N: Yay! New chapter! And within a reasonable time period, no less! The semester's almost over; I will be SO GLAD when it's over, because I have already checked out mentally. Anyway, I was fussing over this chapter a lot, especially the end, so hopefully you'll enjoy it. Peace!  
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**Thank you to **Esha Napoleon, R Lucas Spitfire, miles89, Writinglove101, MagZ86, Baby Jayne, Jemima Flute, RatedRCouture, NikkiCandiOE, **and **Hailey Egan **for reviewing the last chapter! You ROCK!

* * *

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Chapter 6: I Hate Everything About You

Melina stormed into the hotel room, snapping on the overhead light. Pausing long enough to prop her suitcase against the wall, she moved across the small space, stopping at the window and pushing the sheer curtain aside. The only thing that greeted her was a spectacular view of the parking lot, but the paparazzi princess forced herself to gaze at it, her eyes moving slowly from car to car. It was boring, but better boring than dangerous; better to stare at nothing than acknowledge the confused jumble of emotions crowding her brain.

The Dominant Diva was in a bad mood, one that had gotten progressively worse over the last hour or so. She didn't have a migraine, not yet, but she could feel the first twinges of it just above her right eye, the full brunt of the imminent pain still hovering beyond the horizon. As a result, she'd been unusually quiet this evening, her opinions (for once) remaining unvoiced. Johnny hadn't said anything, but then again, she wouldn't have expected Johnny _to_ say anything. The Intercontinental Champion was, for the most part, a sweet and dutiful boyfriend, and while he did _try_, sympathy and comforting had unfortunately always eluded him.

Besides, it wasn't as though Melina was particularly eager to share her thoughts with anybody, _especially_ not her boyfriend. What was she supposed to tell him: that she was in a pissy mood because her mind (with the annoying monotony of a broken record) kept replaying a recent encounter with a certain Rainbow-Haired Warrior?

That when Jeff had grabbed her hand, it had felt as though someone had lit a fire beneath her skin? That when his eyes met hers, she had found herself struggling to breathe?

_No way_ could she tell that to Nitro; she was having a hard enough time admitting it to herself.

Behind her, Nitro bounced onto the double bed, propping himself up on one elbow. With his other hand, he slid his sunglasses up on top of his head, his eyes immediately lighting on the slender form of his girlfriend. The Intercontinental Champion grinned. "Hey, Mel, what're you doing all the way over there by yourself?" He patted the empty expanse of bedspread next to him, a suggestive note creeping into his voice. "Come over here and join me."

Melina didn't reply, grateful that her turned back prevented Johnny from noticing that she was rolling her eyes. Jeff Hardy might have been the reason behind her foul mood—but Nitro was definitely one of its contributing factors. Somehow, in the last two hours, his confidence had returned, along with his usual swagger, and his demeanor had become downright chipper—bordering on obnoxious.

The paparazzi princess didn't understand why her boyfriend was in such high spirits. First, there had been the unwarranted Swanton Bomb, and then what had followed shortly after her…_conversation…_ with Jeff Hardy…

_Shane McMahon gestured at the pair of easy chairs arranged in front of his desk. "Have a seat,"_

_The Intercontinental Champion grudgingly obliged, holding a large bag of ice to his head with one hand and clutching his blue-and-gold title belt with the other. His handsome features were twisted in a sullen expression. Melina didn't sit, but instead hovered at Nitro's side, resting her hand protectively on his shoulder (the one not occupied by the Intercontinental Championship, that is.) The A-list pair eyed the elder McMahon sibling warily._

_Shane's response was to raise his eyebrows, his mouth curling up into a wry smile. Leaning back a little in his cushioned executive's chair, he regarded the heel duo in front of him. "Relax, you two," he finally said after several painfully long seconds. "I'm not going to reprimand you or anything." At this, Nitro and Melina relaxed visibly. The Chairman's son continued. "With all the cheating that goes on in our business, chastising you for what happened tonight would be just wasting my breath."_

_Nitro heaved a sigh of relief. "Glad you feel that way, man," The Raw Superstar started to rise to his feet. "Now, if you'll excuse me—"_

_"I wasn't finished," All of a sudden, Shane's voice had gone steely, the amusement gone from his face as though it had never been there to begin with. Surprised, Nitro froze for a second or two, before sinking slowly back into his chair. Melina pressed her lips together in a thin line, swallowing hard. The elder McMahon sibling leaned forward, clasping his hands together on the desk. "See, I have no problem with cheating…so long as you don't get caught." His gaze slid from Nitro to Melina. "And I'm pretty sure that grabbing the referee's hand to stop the count qualifies as getting caught."_

_The Dominant Diva felt furious words spring to her lips, but bit them back. There was nothing she could say to counter Shane's accusation; if anything, she would just end up making the situation worse. Instead, Melina tightened her grip on Nitro's shoulder, the tips of her nails resting lightly against his skin, hoping that he would follow her lead and keep his mouth shut before he said anything stupid._

_Unfortunately, the Intercontinental Champion didn't get the hint. "What're you saying—" Nitro blurted out, almost rising up again before Melina was able to regain control and push him back down._

_Shane went on talking as though the Raw Superstar hadn't said anything. "Jeff Hardy stopped by just before I called you in here, and after hearing him out, I agree that he has a very strong case for a rematch." The Chairman's son focused his eyes on Nitro once again. "So, in two weeks, at Unforgiven, we're going to have Round Two. Jeff Hardy versus Johnny Nitro for the Intercontinental Title."_

_"That's not fair!" Nitro was on his feet before Melina could stop him, striding to the desk and leaning over it to glare at the elder McMahon sibling. "Jeff Hardy had his chance; why should he get another shot at MY title? Besides, didn't you see what he DID to me after the match? The guy's a psycho—"_

_"That may be true," Shane's voice was soft, but still held the unmistakable ring of authority. Nitro immediately snapped his mouth shut—his first wise move of the night. The Chairman's son went on. "But then again, maybe you should have thought about that before you went and got yourself disqualified." Shane rose to his feet, and even though a desk separated him and Nitro, the Intercontinental Champion still backed up a step. "Now, unless either of you has anything useful to add, this conversation is over."_

_Nitro opened his mouth to retort, perhaps thought better of it, and shut it instead, glowering at the elder McMahon sibling. "C'mon, Mel, let's go," he grumbled through gritted teeth, grabbing Melina's hand, and almost yanking her in the direction of the door. _

_The A-List couple was just about to exit when Shane spoke again. "Oh, and one more thing…" Both Nitro and Melina turned toward him, dislike clearly written across both of their faces. Shane met their gazes steadily, unfazed. "If you decide to pull the same trick you did tonight at Unforgiven…I have no problem with banning your girlfriend from ringside and restarting the match. Understand?"_

_Melina's temper flared, fiery anger ripping through her body. Without even pausing to remember who she was talking to, the paparazzi princess lunged toward Shane. "You son of a—" she spat, the epithet abruptly cut off as Johnny grabbed her arm, herding her out of the room. "This isn't over," the Intercontinental Champion added, tossing the comment distractedly over his shoulder as he shoved Melina back out into the hallway._

_The Chairman's son watched their exit with evident amusement, a smile touching the corners of his mouth. Finally, after a few seconds had elapsed, he shook his head, chuckling softly, glancing back down to study the scripts strewn over his desk…_

Nitro tilted his head to the side, studying the Dominant Diva. "Mel?" he ventured, his tone a little bit softer this time. Still no answer; it was as though Melina had forgotten he was even here. The Intercontinental Champion let out a sigh, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. The problem with Mel was that for all her sex appeal and charisma, there was this serious introspective facet to her that was considerably less exciting. It wasn't as though Nitro disapproved of it entirely—some of his girlfriend's best ideas had resulted from these periods of self-enforced silence—but he couldn't get over the fact that whenever Melina got like this, she was…well…_boring_.

Nitro knew that he shouldn't think this way—he was pretty sure that he loved Melina—but it was really hard to remember that on those days when his girlfriend slipped into one of her _moods_. And it wasn't helping matters that Melina had been lapsing back into this wet-blanket persona more and more over the past few weeks, ever since that whole Mick Foley incident.

For the briefest of moments, the Intercontinental Champion entertained the notion that Foley's termination and Melina's moodiness were somehow connected; that his girlfriend actually felt _guilty_ for what she had done. But just as quickly, Nitro dismissed the idea. Mel had despised Foley just as much as he had. She hadn't gone through any great crisis of faith when she had ended his pathetic excuse for a career; if anything, she had been doing herself, Nitro, and the rest of the WWE a huge favor. Most likely, Melina was just strategizing; trying to determine their next move in the A-list pair's ongoing battle against Jeff Hardy.

The Intercontinental Champion's eyes narrowed. He'd known that piece of shit was going to be trouble, ever since he'd caught him sprawled on top of his girlfriend. And so far, Hardy had managed to prove him right; tonight's match had been one of the toughest bouts he'd fought since winning the Intercontinental Championship. And now, thanks to Shane McMahon (and in some small part, to Melina as well), their war would continue at Unforgiven in thirteen days. Nitro was grateful to his girlfriend for helping him, but he was also a little pissed at her; her interference may have saved his title, but had also resulted in this rematch.

The Raw Superstar shook his head abruptly, dispelling any negative thoughts. The match was almost two weeks away; there was no point in dwelling on it tonight. Besides, at Unforgiven, he would have Mel at ringside, and if there was one virtue that he loved about his girlfriend, it was that she was smart enough not to make the same mistake twice. Right now, the only things that mattered were that they were in Atlanta, he was _still _the Intercontinental Champion, and he and his smoking hot girlfriend were going to celebrate tonight.

Nitro slowly sat up, easing his body off the bed. "C'mon, Mel," he coaxed. "Don't tell me you're still pissed about what Shane-O-Mac told you," The Intercontinental Champion shrugged. "Don't worry about that guy—he's as crazy as his father, thanks to all that DX crap." He came up behind the paparazzi princess, still talking. "The only thing you need to be worried about is what sexy outfit you're going to wear to the club tonight—and then tonight, when we get back…" Nitro let his voice trail off, wrapping both arms around Melina's waist and pulling her back against him. He dipped his head down, his lips grazing the curve of her ear.

Instead of responding to his touch, however, the Dominant Diva stiffened, and when his lips touched her ear, she abruptly shoved him away from her. "Not tonight, Johnny—I have a headache."

Nitro stumbled back a step or two, shocked, his mouth hanging open. It took him a few moments to find his voice, and when he did, his words tumbled out in a surprised squeak. "A _headache_? What do you _mean_, you have a _headache_?"

Melina had resumed her original position in front of the window, her arms crossed over her ample chest. At Nitro's indignant comment, she let out a humorless bark of laughter. "I _mean_, Johnny, that my head hurts and I'm not in the mood for clubbing tonight."

Her terse selection of words was enough to stun the Intercontinental Champion back into near-incoherence. "You—you can't be serious!" he sputtered. "I mean, _come on_! We're in Hot-Lanta, for fuck's sake!" He moved toward her a pace, lowering his tone a little. "And in case you forgot—your boyfriend just retained his Intercontinental Championship!"

_Thanks to ME!..._Melina thought sourly, but didn't voice it. Instead, she whirled around, fixing Nitro with a furious glare. "I _didn't_ forget…but as far as I'm concerned, both you _and_ Hot-Lanta are going to have to get along without me tonight!"

The Intercontinental Champion stared at her for a heartbeat or two, his shocked countenance gradually giving way to a petulant frown. At this, Melina had to resist the urge to roll her eyes again. For all his talent and athletic ability, her boyfriend could sometimes be as stubbornly infuriating as a four-year-old. Nitro crossed his arms over his chest, clearly pouting by now. "What's wrong with you, Mel?" he said after a while. "You've been acting like it's your time of the month or something—"

At this, Melina's one remaining thread of self-restraint finally snapped, and her rage exploded outward. "_Nothing_ is wrong with me!" she snapped. "Jesus, why is it so hard for you to understand that I _just don't feel like partying tonight_?"

"Not even with me?" Nitro retorted, taking a step toward her.

The words were out of Melina's mouth before she could think to check herself. "_Especially _not with you!" the Dominant Diva spat.

As soon as she said it, she knew it had been a mistake. Slowly, Melina's angry expression faded and she raised her hand to cover her mouth, as though by doing so, she could somehow take her words back. "Johnny, I'm sorry, I—" she began, reaching out tentatively to touch his arm.

"Don't bother," the Intercontinental Champion interrupted brusquely, jerking his arm free of her grasp. His expression was unreadable. He turned away from her, heading for the door. "I can take a hint. If you're going to be like that, _fine_. I can find a good time somewhere else, _without you_."

"Johnny, wait—" Melina tried to interject, but Nitro was already gone, slamming the door behind him. The paparazzi princess stared at the spot where he had stood for several long seconds before the corners of her mouth turned down and she wailed in frustration and annoyance. She frantically looked around for something to throw, but unfortunately, there was nothing handy. She settled for kicking the wall instead. That turned out to be another error, because as soon as her foot made contact, pain engulfed it, radiating all the way up to her knee. The Dominant Diva's enraged shriek became a yelp of agony, and she limped over to a nearby armchair, sinking down into it with effort and letting her breath out in an indignant huff.

Melina pouted, folding her arms over her chest again. What was _wrong_ with her? She had known Johnny for a long time, and even though he occasionally got on her nerves, she had never really snapped at him like she had just now. Her headache must be worse than she thought. But even as she accepted this explanation, she knew there was more to her recent mood swings than she was willing to admit. Over the past few weeks, something had invaded her life; disrupting her otherwise perfect existence and making her question things she had always taken for granted.

It was all Jeff Hardy's fault, the paparazzi princess concluded. Ever since he had returned to the WWE, he had been nothing but a pain in her ass. And tonight…she had sought him out after the match intending to put him in his place, and somehow, he had turned the tables on _her_, flooring her with that terse comment of his.

_The only thing you proved tonight is that you're nothing more than a golddigging bitch…_

Melina scowled. What right did a washed-up nobody like Jeff Hardy have to judge _her_? He didn't know her, he didn't know or understand what she had gone through to _be_ somebody in this company. The Charismatic Enigma had it easy; all he had done was show up and the powers-that-be had practically handed him a title match. Melina, on the other hand, constantly had to compete for face time with brainless Diva Search rejects. At least with Nitro, she was a _presence_, the girlfriend of the Intercontinental Champion, the paparazzi princess, the _Dominant Diva_. Jeff might have nothing but harsh words for her and Nitro, but all that trash talk hadn't won him the Intercontinental Championship tonight.

Besides, it wasn't as though the Rainbow-Haired Warrior's taste in women was any better, since he seemed enamored with that clueless airhead, Maria—

Melina halted in mid-thought, tensing a little in her chair. What the hell was she _doing_? Was she actually sitting here, stressing out over something that _Jeff Hardy_ had said to her? The paparazzi princess had spent the last year and a half not giving a _damn_ about what anyone else thought of her; when had the opinions of one purple-haired freak suddenly become important to her?

And as for Maria—Melina didn't like the little idiot to begin with, but for some reason, seeing her with Jeff had made her feel like she was going to throw up. And what bothered her even more than their relationship was the fact that she could almost identify the emotion that consumed her every time she thought about it. It was almost like…_jealousy_.

"That's ridiculous!" the Dominant Diva blurted out loud suddenly. She threw her arms out wide, looking around the empty room as though searching for affirmation. "Why do _I _care if he wants to date that _bimbo_?"

But even as she said it, Melina couldn't ignore the fact that she actually _did_ care.

For some reason, she cared a _lot_.

* * *

Todd Grisham cleared his throat nervously, turning from the camera to the A-list couple just to his left. "Johnny Nitro," he began. "Later tonight, you face off in a six-person tag match as you team up with Randy Orton and the WWE Champion Edge and face off against John Cena, Carlito, and Jeff Hardy. How did you prepare for such a big match?" He extended his microphone toward Nitro, unconsciously tensing as though bracing himself for a punch.

Melina smirked silently, shooting an adoring glance up at her boyfriend before turning her attention back to the backstage reporter. She had nothing against Todd, other than the fact that he looked like Chicken Little and probably had never kissed a girl in his life. But somehow, he had this tendency to turn into Captain Obvious during his interviews. _How did you prepare_—what the hell kind of question was that? Why not ask a question about Nitro's Intercontinental Championship reign, or his upcoming match in six days against Jeff Hardy, or even how it felt to be performing in Madison Square Garden on the five-year-anniversary of 9/11?

Despite the excitement that she always possessed during a Raw broadcast, Melina could feel the emotional weight of this particular anniversary, as though it had permeated the walls of the Garden and was even now soaking into her pores. For that reason, she was finding it harder than usual to keep up her haughty façade. More than anything, she wanted to be by herself; to find some tucked-away little niche where she could let out her emotions in private.

But when you were the Dominant Diva, you unfortunately didn't get that luxury—not when you had a boyfriend to placate. Melina had spent the past week repairing the breach in her relationship with Johnny, a breach that _she_ had created. Last Monday, Nitro hadn't come back to the hotel room until the following morning, and all of her queries about his evening had been met with noncommittal one-word responses. Panicked, Melina had spent the next six days fawning over him, rebuilding Nitro's ego while swallowing her own pride (and oftentimes, disgust) at how pathetic she was being. Tonight was the first night where her boyfriend seemed to be his usual confident, _obedient_ self, and Melina was determined not to jeopardize that—certainly not for the sake of her own petty emotions.

But even as the paparazzi princess assured herself that everything had returned to normal, she couldn't ignore the nagging thought that a distance had grown between her and Nitro, one which could possibly never be bridged…

The voice of the Intercontinental Champion interrupted her thoughts. Nitro tugged down his designer sunglasses, fixing Todd with an appraising look as he spoke. "Let me tell you something, T," the Raw Superstar began. "When you look as good as Johnny Nitro, you're prepared for _anything _at _anytime_, _but_—" He paused for a moment. "Before I talk about the match, I want to talk about a comment that Jeff Hardy made about our press conference." The Intercontinental Champion's grin disappeared, and he went on. "Jeff Hardy said that watching Melina and I's press conference was like watching paint dry? Are you _kidding _me? Melina and I are the _hottest _things on TV—"

"That's right!" Melina interrupted, cutting her boyfriend off. She flipped a curl of hair back over her shoulder before continuing. "And if you wanna know how watching _paint dry_ is like, look at Mick Foley!" As soon as the Hardcore Legend's name popped out of her mouth, Melina felt her stomach invert itself. Dizziness filled her head, turning the world around her into a carnival funhouse mirror, and it took everything the paparazzi princess had to continue on as if nothing was wrong. "Look at Mick Foley coming in week after week, yammering about stuff that happened, like, twelve years ago!" She eyed Todd with incredulous distaste, as though daring him to disagree with her. "That's boring! When I _fired_ Mick Foley, I did _everyone_ a favor!" She flicked her gaze back toward Nitro, expecting him to agree with her and change the subject. "Right, baby?"

"Yeah," Nitro replied, his face lighting up in a malicious grin. Melina felt her sneer falter at the edges, anxiety seizing her. _Please, Johnny_…she pleaded silently. _Let it go_… Regrettably, such was not to be the case with the Intercontinental Champion. Nitro eased his belt up higher on his shoulder, pushing his sunglasses on top of his head. He looked toward the camera, as though its lens was a direct conduit between him and the Hardcore Legend. "Hey, Mick, here's a tip: next time you have a crush, or whatever you want to call it, on a girl _fifteen years younger_ than you, why don't you try talking about something _other_ than starving children?"

_Aw, Christ_…Melina thought to herself. _That _had been too far. She could only hope that her feeling of mute horror was not actually showing on her face. Next to her, she heard Todd shuffle his feet uncomfortably. Unfortunately, Nitro seemed to be blissfully unaware that he had not only crossed the line, but with every passing second, was striding further and further away from it. The Intercontinental Champion went on, gesturing with both hands now, sarcasm oozing off his words. "I mean, come on! Ooh, I just got a call from my kid in the Philippines!"

Melina stood there, frozen, wondering frantically what she could do or say to salvage the situation. She had no way of knowing that she was about to be saved, though in the worst way possible and from the most unlikely of sources.

The Dominant Diva glanced back at Todd, noticing for the first time that the backstage reporter's attention was not on Nitro, or even on her, but on some third party in the far corner of the interview area. The Intercontinental Champion must have realized this as well, because his verbal berating of Mick Foley abruptly trailed off into silence. He glared at Todd. "What? What is it?"

The backstage reporter didn't answer, merely pointed to a spot beyond Nitro's right shoulder. Melina turned along with her boyfriend, her eyes widening when she spotted the familiar figure of Jeff Hardy a few feet behind them. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior's attention was not on them, however, but on a piece of canvas perched on an easel, its white surface smeared with formless squiggles of yellow and blue paint. Jeff stared at the canvas intently, occasionally nodding as though the painting was somehow talking and he was responding in kind.

For a moment, Melina was bewildered; then, all of a sudden, the thought came together in her mind.

_As boring as watching paint dry…_

The paparazzi princess's dark eyes narrowed, her lips drawing back from her teeth in a snarl. "Oh, you little—" she spat. She turned toward Nitro, intending to give him a shove, but the Intercontinental Champion was already striding forward, eying his future opponent with a mixture of disdain and anger. He glanced at the canvas, then at the Charismatic Enigma. "You think that's funny?" the Raw Superstar demanded, punctuating his remark with a hard shove.

Jeff stumbled back a step. He regarded his artwork for a second, before turning back toward Nitro. His mouth twitched in a smirk, and he nodded. "Yeah…"

Nitro's face twisted with hatred, and with one swift motion, he raised his foot and kicked the painting over. Both the easel and the canvas went flying, skittering out of sight behind the interview set curtain.

"That's right, baby!" Melina exclaimed, her voice almost swallowed by Jeff's indignant cry: "That's my _painting, _man!" The Rainbow-Haired Warrior shoved Nitro, considerably harder than Nitro had him, knocking the Intercontinental Champion onto the ground.

What happened next had to have lasted only seconds, but for Melina, everything seemed to occur in slow motion, stretching out into eternity. She gasped when Nitro hit the floor, his title belt falling off his shoulder and sliding out of reach. "Come _on_!" the Dominant Diva shrieked indignantly. She strode forward a few steps, though still remaining well out of the way of the ensuing fray. "Johnny, get him!"

All of her attention had been on Nitro; it wasn't until her boyfriend was back on his feet that she realized Jeff had not been motionless during all this. When she saw the tidal wave of yellow barreling toward them, she didn't even stop to think what it could be; she instinctively turned away, shielding her face with both hands. She heard a splashing sound, and then screamed in shock as something cold, wet, and viscous hit her in the side of the head. Melina tore her hands from her face, reaching back to ascertain what it was. Her fingers came back yellow.

The paparazzi princess stared at it, uncomprehending, until realization gradually dawned on her. _Paint. _The fucker had thrown _paint _on them. Melina whirled around, her eyes widening in disbelief when she saw her boyfriend. Nitro had taken the brunt of it; his entire face and chest was covered with paint. Despite her shock and ever-growing anger, the Dominant Diva couldn't hold back a surprised giggle. Johnny looked like a mutant version of Big Bird.

The Intercontinental Champion didn't hear her; he was too busy spitting out paint. "Are you kidding me?" Nitro yelled, his voice cracking with rage. "Are you _kidding _me?" His words turned into a strangled gargle as another wave of liquid (blue this time) hit him in the face. The self-proclaimed A-lister staggered backward, swiping at his face with both hands, trying to clear the thick substance from his eyes and mouth.

Jeff stormed after him, shooting both of his hands out and catching Nitro right in the chest, shoving him down. "Come on!" the Charismatic Enigma urged, his tone challenging. Nitro struggled to regain his footing, flailing blindly out in front of him with both hands. Upon seeing this, Melina's paralysis finally shattered and she dashed forward, hoping to subdue Johnny before he made even more of an idiot out of himself. As she reached her boyfriend's side, her high-heeled boots hit a pool of paint and her feet went right out from under her, sending her ungracefully onto her ass.

For a moment, Melina lay there, stunned, before she was able to collect herself and get back up. She crawled toward Johnny, scraping her knees on the concrete wrapping her arms around his chest and neck and holding him bodily back from Jeff, even though she doubted he could even see. "Baby, baby!" she cried. With one hand, she wiped at Nitro's face, trying to remove the paint from his eyes. "Baby, are you okay?"

_Dumb question, there, Mel…_the paparazzi princess chastised herself. _He just got doused with paint; would YOU be okay?..._ She sensed eyes on her, and shot her head up, locking gazes with Jeff. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior stared down at her with obvious amusement, hands on hips. Without saying anything, he glanced from her to the helpless figure of Nitro, then back up at her. The smirk was back, that irritating nonchalant smirk she would have given _anything_ to erase. He was speaking now; his voice was soft, but Melina still heard every word: "Looking _good_ tonight, princess," Shoving both hands in his pockets, the Charismatic Enigma spun around on his heel, strolling out of the interview area and out of sight down the hallway.

Melina stared after him mutely. Her chest was heaving with every ragged breath she took. Slowly, she moved her gaze down to her boyfriend. The Intercontinental Champion had ceased his struggles, and now lay in her arms like a little boy seeking comfort, mewling softly in misery. Melina's dark eyes slid down even further, taking in her own appearance. Her cutoff red shirt and short pleated plaid skirt were stained with paint smears, probably ruined. In addition, her legs, arms, chest—basically, everything save her face—were covered with a combination of yellow and blue paint that was rapidly drying into a mottled muddy green.

The paparazzi princess sat very still, almost motionless, as two truths emerged and crystallized in her mind. The first was that Nitro's six-man tag match was up next, so barring divine intervention from God himself, the two of them would have no choice but to walk down the ramp, in _Madison Square Garden_, coated with paint.

The second was that she completely, totally, absolutely _hated _Jeff Hardy.

Balling her hands into fists, clenching hard enough to pierce her palms with her fingernails, the Dominant Diva screamed.

Off to the side, Todd Grisham started to approach her, thought better of it, and instead wisely tiptoed away.

* * *

Melina stormed down the hall, her boots clicking out a furious tattoo on the cement surface. Superstars who saw her coming quickly moved out of the way; those who didn't were met with a hard shove to the side. No one said anything, though. For once, everyone knew better than to mess with her.

It had been bad enough walking out to the ring. Cena and Carlito had practically wet themselves laughing when they saw the A-list couple; even Nitro's own teammates had had a hard time keeping a straight face. However, Melina had gritted her teeth and kept her emotions in check, even though doing so was nearly impossible.

But then it had gotten worse when Nitro lost the match for his team. Running into the ring to break up an F-U attempt on Edge, the Intercontinental Champion ended up taking an F-U of his own, before being forced to tap out to the STF-U.

Nitro had been pretty out of it on the way to the trainer's room, raving about how certain individuals were going to pay and using the F-bomb in various—and oftentimes creative—ways. Melina knew that once he regained his senses, it was going to take forever to calm him down, and so she left him in the capable hands of the trainer, with the promise that she would "take care of it."

Namely, she was going to find Jeff Hardy and rip his fucking balls off.

The paparazzi princess's eyes lit on a figure hurrying from the opposite direction; a guy wearing a lanyard and an air of nervous subservience that practically _screamed _"Intern". Her lips drew back from her teeth in a humorless smile, and she altered her course slightly, placing herself right in his path. The intern's swift stride faltered as he realized the danger he was in, but before he could turn around and run in the opposite direction, Melina was on him. The Dominant Diva grabbed him by his black t-shirt, throwing him bodily against the wall and glaring up at him. "_Where's Jeff Hardy_?" she growled.

The hapless intern shrank back, perhaps seeing his life pass before his eyes. "I-I-I think I saw him painting or something!" he stammered.

"_Where_?" Melina snarled, jamming her face into his.

The intern pointed off to his left, his arm shaking. "P-p-parking garage!" The paparazzi princess immediately released her grip and strode away, leaving the poor guy to sink down to the floor and seriously consider finding religion.

Melina didn't know how long it took her to reach the parking garage; all she knew was that as soon as she spotted rows and rows of cars, her vision finally cleared. The Dominant Diva walked on, her dark eyes scanning left and right, searching for any movement and finding none. She was beginning to think that the intern had just pulled "parking garage" out of his ass when her gaze fell on something familiar: a head of multihued hair just visible above the roof of a Honda Accord.

The paparazzi princess cut through a row of cars, ducking behind the automobiles until she was directly behind the Charismatic Enigma. Melina slowly moved forward, walking carefully on the balls of her feet so that the click of her high heels wouldn't give her away. Jeff was indeed painting; a large canvas was propped against the wall in front of him, with several cans of paint spread out around him. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior was studying the white surface in front of him, a large brush in one hand.

Melina halted. She was only a few feet from Jeff, but he had yet to acknowledge her presence. Most likely, he was too lost in thought, too caught-up in his stupid artwork to notice the furious Diva right behind him. How typical. Just like everyone else, he would soon understand how dangerous it was to underestimate Melina Perez.

The Dominant Diva looked down. Just beside her right foot was a can of green paint. Melina knelt down, closing her fingers around the slender handle and lifting it up. It was heavy, heavier than she had anticipated, but that didn't matter. She didn't need to throw it very far. Putting her other hand on the base of the can, Melina pulled back and with all her strength, hurled its contents toward the gleaming white canvas.

Her aim was a little off; only about half of the paint actually hit the canvas. The rest splashed onto Jeff, turning the lower right side of his body a vivid emerald. The Charismatic Enigma jumped in surprise. "What the fuck—" he exclaimed. He spun around, his eyes immediately locking on Melina. "You—"

That was all he got out before the paparazzi princess threw a second can at him. This time her aim was a little better; the paint hit Jeff in the chest, dripping down to his waist, soaking his shirt.

Melina let the empty can slip from her fingers, barely hearing the metallic CLANG it made when it connected with the floor. She was too busy admiring her handiwork. The Dominant Diva cocked her head to the side, studying the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. "How does it feel, _Jeff_?" she asked, her voice bright and malicious. "How does it fe—"

Faster than she could see, Jeff stooped down and in one fluid motion, picked up a paint can of his own, dousing her with its contents. This time, Melina didn't even have time to turn away. The waterfall of purple paint hit her in the chest, splashing up onto her face. Purple liquid went up her nose, in her mouth. She had managed to close her eyes at the last second, though, so at least her sight had been spared. The paparazzi princess coughed and spat, pawing at her face with both hands. There was paint in her hair; she could feel it trickling down her back in cold slimy rivulets.

After several long seconds of discomfort and disorientation, she finally cleared away enough of the paint to cautiously open her eyes. As soon as she did so, the first thing she saw was Jeff, still holding the empty paint can and smirking at her. The Charismatic Enigma burst into laughter, letting go of the can. Melina could only stare back at him, growing angrier by the second, but helpless to do anything about it.

Jeff bent over, putting his hands on his knees, as he tried to regain control of himself. "You should—you should—_see_ yourself right now, princess," he managed to gasp out.

Melina blinked once, twice, and suddenly felt her self-control give way. Curling her fingers into claws, she lunged toward the Rainbow-Haired Warrior, shrieking wordlessly. Jeff's smile vanished, and he quickly straightened up, grabbing her wrists before her fingernails could connect with his face.

Melina struggled to free herself, even though Jeff's grip was as hard and unbreakable as iron. Red had clamped down over her vision, turning everything around her the hue of blood, and she became aware that she was talking, spitting out three words over and over in a ceaseless mantra:

_I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you…_

Jeff soon realized that he was not going to subdue Melina without the use of some immovable force. Swinging the raging Diva around, he pushed her back until her back connected with the cinderblock wall. Still holding fast to her wrists, he lifted her hands up, pinning them to the wall on either side of her head. Without thinking—how could he _think_ with all that shrieking going on?—he stuck his face into hers. "_Calm down_!" Jeff bellowed. "Would you just fucking _calm down_?"

Amazingly, his directive worked; the Dominant Diva fell silent. Jeff stared at her, intending to ask her what the hell her problem was, why she had attacked him, intending to ask her any number of things—but found that he couldn't. He was too captivated by her eyes, those dark brown irises full of fire and rage and hatred. And as he stood there, at a loss for words, he saw all that anger and loathing drain out of her expression, replaced by a look of confusion and longing that he completely understood.

Because he was feeling it, too.

For the first time, Jeff became aware of their close proximity. Another step, and he could pin her against this wall, molding his body against hers. He released her wrists, and Melina slowly let her hands drop down to her sides, but she made no move to ease away from him. It was as though she was as entangled in this moment as he was.

Jeff studied her face, his eyes sweeping over its delicate planes and curves. Even at her worst, she was beautiful, and right now, in this moment of unexpected bewilderment (despite being covered with purple paint) she was absolutely gorgeous. He was so close that he could smell the faint aroma rising off her skin, even under all that paint. His gaze slid down to her lips, and he found he couldn't tear his eyes away from them. They were so full, so soft…

Without really understanding what he was doing, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior brought his hand up, his fingers grazing her cheek. Melina stiffened slightly, a low gasp escaping her throat. Her skin was warm; it was practically burning his fingers, but Jeff didn't pull away. He ran his fingertips along the edge of her jaw, then with his thumb, he gently caressed her lower lip.

The Charismatic Enigma never said a word, but inside, his thoughts were in a maelstrom. _Push me away!..._his mind screamed. _Tell me to stop, tell me to go to hell, tell me that you hate me—just tell ANYTHING because I shouldn't be doing this! I shouldn't be falling right now…not for you! Please don't let me fall for you…_

_Being in love was like hitting that Swanton…when you fell, you FELL…_

And in that instant, Jeff Hardy _fell_.

The younger Hardy brother moved a little closer, dipping his head down, his mouth grazing hers—and then tensed, emitting a stifled grunt of pain as Melina's knee collided with his testicles. Jeff stumbled back, clutching himself with both hands, before tumbling onto the floor, involuntarily curling up into the fetal position.

Melina pushed herself off the wall, walking over to where the Charismatic Enigma lay. She regarded him for a second or two, her expression emotionless, before lifting up her booted foot to add an exclamation point to her statement in the area of his kidneys.

But before she could do so, she stopped. Slowly, she returned her stiletto-heeled shoe to the ground, and without saying anything, abruptly stormed away.

Jeff listened to the sound of her footsteps, listened until they died away into nothingness. With obvious effort, he rolled over onto his back, trying to ignore the blinding pain in the most vulnerable of areas. He blinked, squinting his eyes against the blinding fluorescent lights above him.

"That was stupid…" he remarked to no one in particular.


	7. Chapter 7: Sleepless Nights

**A/N: NEW CHAPTER! Sorry about the wait; I swear, summer break hits, and I become all lackadaisical with all of my stories. I have been so bad about updating, esp. this one, so I pulled a marathon session and banged this chapter out. Right now, it is now almost 5 in the morning and I am very tired, so I apologize for any errors. Hopefully, you will enjoy this one. Peace!**

**Thank you to **Writinglove101, Jemima Flute, Esha Napoleon, xXx A Beautiful Nightmare xXx, RatedRCouture, Oomph Kiddo, wweroh, D Torres, Baby Jayne, NikkiCandiOE, alethea293, miles89, Nikki7993, **and **cherrycokerocks **for your reviews! Did I get everyone? I think I got everyone. WOW. All I can say is...you guys are AWESOME! Thank you SO much for your comments and feedback!**

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Chapter 7: Sleepless Nights

The Dominant Diva walked slowly down the corridor, her feet practically dragging with every step. Purple paint oozed down her limp arms, dripping off her fingers to puddle on the cement floor, leaving a vibrantly-hued trail in her wake. Melina's beautiful face was expressionless; her full lips pressed together tightly, her brown eyes staring dully ahead.

It wasn't that she didn't care; the paparazzi princess _did_ care, quite a bit. Her evening had been shitty enough; the last thing she wanted to do at this point was make the walk of shame back to the women's locker room looking like a psychedelic version of Carrie. Rather, it was the fact that too many other conflicting emotions were competing for space in her head, pushing her to the brink of sensory overload. It was easier just to feign indifference, to pretend that she didn't feel anything at all.

Because being numb was better than acknowledging what had just happened between her and Jeff Hardy.

Melina reached the locker room and ground to a halt. She stared at the door for several seconds, studying the printed sign reading _DIVAS LOCKER ROOM_ as though trying to ascertain its validity. She grasped the handle, leaving smears of paint on its polished surface, and turned it, pushing the door open and stepping into the room.

The space was almost empty, save for a few other Divas. Over in the far corner, Mickie James chatted with Torrie Wilson as she changed out of her ring attire into street clothes. On the other side, Candice Michelle stood in front of one of the vanity mirrors, applying a fresh coat of gloss to her lips. All three looked over as Melina walked into the room. The tube of lip gloss slipped from Candice's fingers, while Torrie and Mickie's conversation abruptly died away into silence. For a heartbeat or two, no one made a sound. Then, gradually, Mickie's stunned countenance gave way to one of scornful delight, and she let out a very un-Diva-like snort of laughter. Torrie and Candice quickly followed suit, their giggles digging into Melina's ears like ice picks.

The Dominant Diva's eyes narrowed, her gaze falling on the former Women's Champion. She didn't like any of the trio, but she had always harbored a particular dislike for Mickie. That bitch was certifiable; she belonged in a mental hospital, not a wrestling ring. But yet, of the two of them, Mickie had been the one chosen to face Trish Stratus in her final Raw match, while Melina had been relegated to escorting her boyfriend to the ring covered in house paint.

For a moment, the paparazzi princess was tempted to cross the room and wipe that smirk off of Mickie's face; to see how much Miss James liked having purple paint in that pretty golden-brown hair of hers. But Melina quickly regained control of herself. One of these days, she would show Mickie who the better Diva was, and it wouldn't be back here in front of two pieces of useless eye candy, but out in the ring, in front of _everyone_. Instead, the Dominant Diva pinched her lips together even harder, striding with as much dignity as she could muster toward the shower area.

She had just reached the doorway when a new voice joined in, one that grated on her ears even more than the other Divas' laughter. "Hey, guys! What's so fu—" Maria stepped out of the shower area, a towel wrapped around her slender frame. She stopped dead when she saw a painted-covered Melina standing almost right in front of her, her effervescent tone fading into a surprised squeak. The two Divas regarded each other silently before Maria broke the quiet, raising her hand to her mouth to muffle her laughter. "Holy _crap_!" the backstage reporter exclaimed. "What happened to _you_?"

Melina stared at the former Diva Search contestant, her mind no longer in the present, but in the past. Traveling back to a week ago, to the friendly exchange she had glimpsed in the hallway, to Maria's hand on Jeff Hardy's cheek…

Without warning, the paparazzi princess reared back, bringing her hand up and slapping Maria across the face with all of her strength. The shocked backstage reporter stumbled to one side, hitting the adjacent wall and sliding down to the floor. Melina didn't offer her so much as a second glance, but stormed into the shower area, entering the stall furthest from the door and throwing the curtain closed with a clatter of metal rings.

The other three Divas immediately crowded around Maria, their pretty faces bearing identical expressions of concern. "Oh my God, 'Ria!" Torrie cried, carefully brushing the backstage reporter's hair back from her face. "Are you okay?"

Maria slowly shook her head, clearly still dazed from the blow. The left side of her face was marred by the perfect purple outline of a hand. "I'm fine," she replied cautiously. The green-eyed Diva gazed around at her friends, her features reading confusion. "What did I _do_?"

Mickie gently rubbed Maria's shoulder. "Don't worry about her, hon," she answered soothingly. The former Women's Champion shot an annoyed glance over her shoulder, her brown eyes focused on the closed white shower curtain several feet away. "That bitch doesn't care about anyone except herself," she muttered.

* * *

Melina twisted the shower knob all the way to the left, running the water as hot as she could stand it. As steam filled the small enclosed space, she stripped down, peeling away clothing, boots, and lingerie with numb fingers, discarding them in a corner of the stall. If the paint hadn't ruined them, the water certainly would, but the Dominant Diva didn't care. Right now, she didn't care about anything—except what had just happened in the parking garage.

The paparazzi princess sank down into a sitting position on the tile floor, directly under the shower's spray. The water beat down on her paint-coated hair and skin, almost scalding her. Despite its heat, however, it couldn't stop Melina from shaking; couldn't burn away the feeling of Jeff's hands on her skin.

The Dominant Diva lifted up her hands, studying her wrists as though expecting to see the Rainbow-Haired Warrior's fingerprints seared into her flesh like a brand. No marks were visible, but she could still feel the memory of his touch smoldering inside her like a fire. A fire that, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't extinguish…and somehow, she wasn't sure that she _wanted _to.

Melina reached back behind her, her groping fingers locating the shower knob and twisting it sharply to the right. Immediately, the torrent of hot water turned icy, stabbing into her bare skin like a thousand tiny icicles. The paparazzi princess drew her knees up to her chest, her teeth chattering, but grimly endured the frigid downpour. After all, this was what she was, wasn't it? Just a cold-hearted bitch; a spoiled little princess who didn't care about anyone or anything save herself. This was what she _deserved._

But still, the fire blazed inside her relentlessly, a pulsating wave of heat and longing and need so intense that it made her weak. It terrified her, because she had never felt this sensation before.

Not even when Johnny touched her.

As the excess water streamed past her in lavender-hued rivulets, the Dominant Diva buried her face in her arms, her shoulders shaking as she began to cry.

* * *

Melina fell back against the pillow with a sigh, folding her hands together over her chest. This evening had been nothing but one catastrophe after another, and as a result, she was physically and emotionally exhausted. But for some reason, her mind was still alert, churning away and forcing her to relive every second of this series of unfortunate events.

Once she'd emerged from the shower, the paparazzi princess had soon discovered that Maria and the others had decided to exact their brand of petty childish revenge by stealing all of the towels. Melina had been forced to poke her head carefully out the door, flag down a passing road agent, and coax him into swiping one from the men's locker room. By the time she'd gotten back to the changing room she shared with Johnny, put on fresh clothes, and packed up her things, the show was over.

Out in the garage, she'd sat in the rental car, waiting for Johnny, for almost an hour. The Intercontinental Champion never showed. Normally, when a situation like this occurred, Melina would mercilessly bombard her boyfriend's phone with texts until she had determined his exact whereabouts. But after this particular night from hell, the Dominant Diva had neither the patience nor the inclination to play hide-and-seek. If Johnny wanted to be MIA, then he could catch his own damn ride back to the hotel.

Upon arriving at their shared room, the paparazzi princess's first order of business had been to take another shower, a much more thorough one this time, and make sure that every trace of paint had been eradicated from her hair. After changing into a tank top and yoga pants, she'd switched on the TV, only to find that she couldn't concentrate on any one program for more than a few seconds. Ten minutes of ceaseless channel surfing elapsed before the Dominant Diva finally switched it off, tossing the remote aside and collapsing back onto the bed.

Melina rolled over onto her side, pillowing her head on her arm. She couldn't stand the silence; it made everything so much louder, so much harder to ignore. But unfortunately, this was one recollection that couldn't be drowned out. The tricky thing about memory was that the more you tried to remember something, the more it slipped away from you, and the more you wanted to forget something, the clearer it became. Such was obviously the case in this instance, because the more the Dominant Diva tried to eradicate the Jeff Hardy incident from her mind, the sharper it became; every nuance, every detail replaying over and over like a film reel looped back on itself.

It all seemed so surreal. One minute, they had been at each other's throats; the next, they were…what? All she could see was red, and then all of a sudden, Jeff's face had appeared through the crimson fog surrounding her, his voice bellowing at her to _calm down_. And the strange part was—the second his emerald irises locked onto hers, she _had_ calmed down. Somehow, every ounce of fight and resistance inside her had melted away, leaving her free to go, but powerless to do so.

What had she felt then? Confusion? Fear? _Desire_? Some amalgamation of the three that lapped at her insides like flames? All she _knew_ for certain was that when the Charismatic Enigma had touched her face, she hadn't been able to breathe. _Literally_.

And then he had—Melina squeezed her eyes shut, trying to skip past the memory, but it eluded her mental exertions, insisting on playing out to its logical conclusion—he had to tried to _kiss_ her. _Jeff Hardy had tried to kiss her_. And she didn't know which thought appalled her more—that he had attempted to kiss her…or that, deep down, she had _wanted_ him to.

"No way." The Dominant Diva sat up abruptly, finger-combing back her hair. She shook her head, her still-damp tresses clinging to her face. "_No way_. I _hate _Jeff Hardy! I _hate_ him!" But the more denials she vocalized, the hollower they sounded.

"I hate him." Melina whispered one final time to the empty room, before sinking back down onto the bed, tears of frustration leaking from her eyes. She wasn't lying to herself; part of her truly _did_ hate Jeff Hardy. That was the old Melina; the part of her that was Johnny Nitro's girlfriend, that was Raw's uber-bitch. The part of her that had intervened and kneed the Rainbow-Haired Warrior in the groin before his lips could touch hers.

But there was another part of Melina that clamored for attention; the person she had been before Johnny, before MNM, before her career in the WWE. The part of her that had cared for Mick Foley—and the voice that tormented her now that he was gone. The part of her that she had thought was lost for good behind her A-list snob persona. This part of her…wasn't so sure that her feelings for the younger Hardy brother were exclusively hate-related.

Love or hate—either way, she couldn't stop thinking about Jeff. And after what had occurred tonight…maybe it wasn't hatred driving her to obsess over him.

The paparazzi princess rolled over onto her back, heaving a frustrated sigh. Where _was_ Johnny? Right now, she needed a distraction; something to drown out the voice blaring away in her head. She needed him to hold her; to _take_ her and _remind_ her why _he_ was the man in her life and _not_ Jeff Hardy. So where _was_ he?

Melina's SideKick was on the nightstand beside her; she'd tossed it there earlier without really glancing at it. Now, as she picked it up to give her boyfriend a call, she saw, with some surprise, that she had one new text message. The Dominant Diva pressed a button, her eyes quickly scanning over the digitized message.

_Hey baby,_

_Grabbing a drink w/ the guys. Be back late. Don't wait up._

_Love u_

_Johnny_

The paparazzi princess threw the mobile device aside with an impatient cry; it bounced once before landing on the far corner of the bed. Melina crossed her arms over her chest, pouting. Johnny had been doused with two cans of paints tonight; he'd been practically homicidal following his match. She couldn't understand how, after all that, he could go out to the bar with his friends—and fail to invite her.

The Dominant Diva quickly shook her head. After everything else she had suffered tonight, the last thing she needed to do at this hour was start questioning her boyfriend's motives—otherwise, she'd _never _get any sleep. Instead, Melina pulled back the bedspread and slipped between the sheets, reaching over to switch off the light.

But despite her fatigue, sleep continued to elude the paparazzi princess—because every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was Jeff's green ones.

* * *

Several blocks away, in another hotel room, the Charismatic Enigma was experiencing a similar bout of insomnia. Despite the lights being off and the curtains closed, Jeff still tossed and turned, unable to slip into comforting oblivion.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior wasn't worried about waking his roommate; he'd been traveling alone since returning to Raw. Most of his old riding buddies were on SmackDown, and there really wasn't anyone on Raw that he was friendly enough with, save Maria—and rooming with _her_ would have been, well, _weird_.

Jeff sighed, rolling onto his back to stare at the unseen ceiling above him. He wished that it was thoughts of Maria that were keeping him from sleep. _That_, at least, would be a problem that he could solve. _This_, however, was a situation with no foreseeable resolution; an enigma—no pun intended—that he had no chance at solving. Just like in the ring, he had dove head-first—but instead of nailing the spot, he had crashed and burned.

He shouldn't have tried to kiss her; _that_ much he was certain about. Jeff Nero Hardy had done quite a number of dumb things in his life—but trying to kiss Melina definitely ranked right up there as one of the dumbest. In every single one of his encounters with the paparazzi princess, she'd always been nothing more than a harpy and a bitch; why had he assumed that this one would be any different? Why had he tried to kiss her, _period_?

_You know why_…

"Shut up." Jeff whispered to the darkened room. He hated this voice; to him, it always sounded a little bit like Matt, lecturing away in that big-brother-knows-all tone of his. He flipped over onto his side, trying to find a comfortable area of the pillow to rest his head on.

_Why do you think you can't stop thinking about her_?...the voice persisted. _Or why you can't seem to take that first step with Maria—or why, whenever you're with her, you keep wishing she was someone else?..._

"Okay, not listening!" Jeff announced, his voice sounding hollow in the empty space. He buried his head under the pillow, but the voice followed him. It _definitely_ sounded like his older brother by now.

_Face facts, Jeff; you like her…More than that, you WANT her—and she wants you…_

"Still not listening!"

_Why do you think she didn't push you away when she had the chance; why she waited until the last minute to do anything?...You were looking in her eyes, Jeff—she's in this thing as deep as you are…_

"All right, _that's it_!" The Rainbow-Haired Warrior sat up, tossing the pillow aside and throwing back the covers. Without turning on the light, he fumbled on the nightstand, locating his IPod, cell, and keys, and throwing all three into his pockets. Pushing his lean frame off the bed, he made his way carefully to the door, opening it and stepping out into the hall.

Whenever he had trouble sleeping like this, Jeff's remedy was to go outside, even if it was the dead of winter or the middle of summer. Once he was out in the fresh air, he would listen to his IPod, or sometimes just the sounds of traffic, until he felt that elusive peace slip over him once again. Tonight was clearly going to be one of _those nights_, and the Charismatic Enigma needed to be someplace that wasn't surrounded by four walls, even if that place was only a parking lot. Once he was there, he was going to jam his ear buds into his ears and crank up the volume until the music blasted every coherent thought out of his head.

Until the memory of Melina's eyes, her lips, the soft scent of her skin, faded from his memory completely.

Jeff reached the elevator, jabbing at the "Down" button with one hand and pulling out his IPod with the other. He was preoccupied with unwinding the headphone cord when he hear the soft ding of the elevator arriving. The doors slid open and the Rainbow-Haired Warrior glanced up briefly—then again in an honest-to-God double take, his green eyes widening in surprise when he saw that the elevator's occupant was none other than Johnny Nitro.

For one ludicrous second, Jeff entertained the notion that Nitro had heard about the paint fight—and its aftermath—and had come here to deliver the aforementioned ass-kicking. But as he realized just how ridiculous that possibility was, the Charismatic Enigma noticed two things: the Intercontinental Champion was _incredibly_ drunk—and he was not alone.

The blonde girl hanging on Nitro's arm seemed to be skirting the age of consent, was wearing a sequined minidress that barely covered anything—and was clearly _not_ Melina. As Jeff watched, still trying to comprehend what he was seeing, the Intercontinental Champion leaned down, planting his mouth on hers in a passionate—albeit sloppy—kiss.

Jeff glanced down at the floor, shuffling his feet, wondering if he should sidle into the elevator car, or merely wait for the next one. Luckily for him, Nitro broke off the kiss, looking up at the open door as though noticing it for the first time. "We'rrre herrre, bay-by," he slurred, his voice almost incomprehensible.

The blonde looked up as well, pouting a little. She was soberer, but not by much. Jeff prayed that neither one of them had driven here. "Johhhhnnneeey," she whined. "Whhhhhyyyyyy can't we go to youuur room?"

The Intercontinental Champion leered down at her, reaching over to drape his arm around her shoulders. "I tol' you, bay-by, my roommate snores. He's a total cock-blocker." Sliding his arm down to her waist, he led the blonde out of the elevator.

Jeff ducked his head, hoping to edge by the pair unnoticed. He was about to enter the car, however, when he felt Nitro's hand grab his arm, yanking him back. "Hol' on a sec." The Rainbow-Haired Warrior slowly turned around, bracing himself for the worst. The self-proclaimed A-lister peered at him suspiciously for a moment, his suspicion gradually giving way to recognition…and to scorn.

"Holy shit," Nitro proclaimed. "Jeff Hardy. Jeff _fuckin'_ Hardy." He reached out to grab Jeff's arm a second time, almost falling onto his face in the process. The Charismatic Enigma moved back quickly, leaving the Intercontinental Champion to lean on the wall for support. Nitro pointed at Jeff—or, at least, what he must have _thought_ was Jeff; his aim was off by at least a foot. "I've…got somethin' to say to _you_," the Intercontinental Champion drawled.

"What's that, Nitro?" Jeff answered calmly. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior had been around enough drunks to know that you always agreed with them, no matter how ridiculous or flawed their logic was.

Nitro continued to point. "Tonight…didn' count. You're _still _a _loser_!"

Jeff shrugged, though secretly, he felt like decking the Intercontinental Champion. "If you say so, man."

"I _do_ say so!" Nitro declared proudly. He swayed a little on his feet, grabbing onto the wall again for support. "You're a _loser_, Hardy. You'll always _be_ a _loser_! That's why you'll never be Innercon'nennal Cham'pion—and _that's_ why you'll _never_ have _anything_ as _hot_ as _her_!" To punctuate his point, Nitro reached out and grabbed his date, pulling the blonde to him. The girl let out a surprised squeal, but didn't resist.

The Intercontinental Champion focused his attention back on the Charismatic Enigma. His eyes were bleary and unfocused. "_Now_…if you'll excus' me…I'm gonna go nail this hot chick that you'll never get." He waved his hand in a sad rendition of a goodbye. "Night-night, Hardy. Have fun sleepin' alone."

"Yeah, have a good one, dude," Jeff answered easily, stepping back into the elevator and pressing the "Close" button before Nitro could add any further drunken commentary. As soon as the brass doors hissed shut, the younger Hardy brother let out his breath in a low sigh. "_That _was weird," he admitted. Who would have thought that, in a quest to assuage his insomnia, he would encounter his rival? His very _lit_ rival. Jeff would have found the whole situation hilarious…if he hadn't been so pissed off.

_No wonder…_the Rainbow-Haired Warrior told himself. _Nitro's an asshole when he's SOBER; did you really think he'd be any different drunk?_... But as Jeff tried to soothe his wounded pride, he gradually realized that it wasn't Nitro's remarks that had angered him. After all, the self-proclaimed A-lister had been spewing pretty much the same diatribe since Day One; his comments tonight hadn't been any different.

No…what had pissed him off was seeing Nitro with that little blonde girl. Not because he was jealous or wanted the girl for himself, but because of what it implied, what it _meant_—that Johnny Nitro was cheating on Melina.

At this thought, the Charismatic Enigma _did_ laugh, the sound bursting from him in a surprised bark. Here was a girl, who treated him like dirt, who had cost him the Intercontinental Championship, who had kicked him in the balls only a few hours ago—and he was getting angry over the fact that her _boyfriend _was _cheating_ on her? All conflicting emotion aside, Melina was a harpy, plain and simple; she _deserved_ a boyfriend who cheated on her.

_But_—

"No buts," Jeff interjected firmly. "This is the same chick who threw paint on me, remember? Who kicked me in the rocks when I tried to get too close?" He shook his head. "They fucking _deserve_ each other."

The voice fell silent. Several long seconds passed, but just as Jeff thought that it had gone for good, it offered one final remark before holing away again in his subconscious:

_FINE...Then tell me, Jeff…are you saying this because you DON'T care…or because you're trying to ignore the fact that you DO?_

Jeff quickly shoved his ear buds into his ears and flipped through his IPod to the first song he could find, but even as the hard rock beats pounded through his head, he realized that he truly didn't have an answer to that question.


	8. Chapter 8: Hey Jealousy

**A/N: Yes, I know. I am a bad updater and a horrible procrastinator. Please, accept this new chapter by way of apology. For all of you who have continued to bear with me: you are awesome! Thank you so much for sticking with this story, too!**

**A/A/N: The song in this chapter is "For Sure" by Lostprophets. All rights, etc. belong to them, not me. **

**Thank you to **alethea293, Esha Napoleon, Writinglove101, miles89, Nikki7993, staybeautiiful, Baby Jayne, BettyChampGirl, **and **xXx A Beautiful Nightmare xXx **for reviewing the last chapter! You are all so very very cool! Love yas!

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Chapter 8: Hey Jealousy

_**And every time I see your face, I laugh out loud**_

_**Acting hot; you're fitting in with all the crowd**_

He was done with her.

After what had happened on Raw four days ago—his clusterfuck of an encounter with Melina and the sleepless night that had followed it—Jeff had sworn that he was done with the paparazzi princess. Ambiguous emotions nonwithstanding, philandering boyfriend or not…the girl had kicked him in the _nuts_. If _that_ wasn't a true indication of how she really felt, then Jeff was clearly the most oblivious guy on the planet. It was time he stopped dwelling on her, and instead started thinking about taking that title belt strapped around her boyfriend's waist.

And for a little while, he'd actually been able to keep that promise. The plane ride back to North Carolina, the three days of down-time at his home—during that time, the Dominant Diva, Madison Square Garden, and the events that had transpired there were the furthest things from his mind. But unfortunately for Jeff, this peaceful ignorance was not destined to last, and it was on the flight to New York that the first fleeting memories of Melina began to trickle back into his conscious mind.

At first it was just little things: the confused longing in the paparazzi princess's brown eyes as she stared back at him, the velvety softness of her lips beneath his thumb. But as morning became afternoon, more sensations and recollections returned to him, so by the time he pulled into the parking garage at the Savings Bank Arena in Jamestown for Friday's house show, the whole shameful incident had resurfaced, replaying itself over and over in his head like a bad horror movie.

Despite the passage of time, the Charismatic Enigma could still remember everything, every nuance of feeling, as though the incident had occurred seconds rather than days ago. He could still feel his mouth grazing hers—moments before reality had painfully reasserted itself in the form of a kick to the groin—and the rush of electricity that simple contact had brought. It had been like a million TLC matches rolled into one; it had been like hitting the Swanton off the top of a skyscraper. The sensation had exhilarated him, it had scared the hell out of him…and oddly enough, it had felt _right_.

Which was even more terrifying--because this was _Melina_.

_**And if I could stop the time**_

_**And ask you for a clever line**_

_**And just because I know you won't give it to me**_

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior felt a sardonic smile slip across his face. Why was it that whenever you wanted least to be reminded of something or (in his case) some_one_, the whole world seemed to conspire against you? Even the Lostprophets song currently blasting in his ears seemed to have taken on a deeper meaning, as though the lyrics had been written with the Dominant Diva in mind.

Jeff ground to a halt, almost smacking the back of his legs with his suitcase in the process. This was ridiculous. Here he was, two days away from an Intercontinental Championship match—his first WWE pay-per-view match in more than three years—obsessing over a girl than he didn't even _like_ and trying to find meaning in a rock song. Thank God Matt wasn't here to witness this; his older brother would have given him shit, favoring him with a pitying look before offering some well-meaning but patronizing advice. It had been a long time since Jeff had actually listened to any of Matt's advice, and he was pretty sure that whatever his big brother had to say about Melina would dovetail neatly with his own experiences and observations.

Simply put…Melina was a bitch. A golddigger, probably; a harpy, definitely, but "bitch" was really the tidy little five-letter word that summed her up perfectly. The only person who seemed to be worthy of her was a douchebag pretty-boy who apparently couldn't keep it in his pants; everyone else was beneath her, nothing more than dirt on the sole of her stiletto boot.

Since his first day back, she had gone out of her way to belittle and sabotage the Charismatic Enigma. At best, Jeff merely disliked her; at worst, he downright loathed her. They had nothing in common, they never _would_ have anything in common, and his aborted attempt to kiss her had been awkward, inappropriate, and absolutely insane. Boom. End of story.

So then…why couldn't he stop thinking about her?

_**It's raining hard here now**_

_**That'll never change**_

_**We'll start a war here now**_

_**So who's to blame**_

_**When it starts to rain down?**_

Out of the corner of his eye, Jeff caught a glimmer of movement and looked over, his face immediately lighting up when he saw who it was. "Hey, 'Ria!" The backstage reporter hurried toward him, arms outstretched, and the Rainbow-Haired Warrior let go of his suitcase so he could envelope her in a warm hug.

They remained in this embrace for a minute or so, before Jeff slowly drew back. He slipped one arm around Maria's shoulders, using his free hand to rip his ear buds out of his ears. "So how's your week been going since I last saw you?"

He felt Maria's arm tentatively reach around his back to rest on his waist, her petite body pressing even closer against his. The backstage reporter shrugged, somehow managing to make the wordless response both noncommittal and completely adorable. "The usual; nothing special." She glanced up at him, blinking her big green eyes. "How about you?"

_Oh, nothing much…I got into a paint fight with Melina the Super Bitch in the parking garage of Madison Square Garden, I shoved her up against a wall, and—here' s the really funny part; you'll love this—I TRIED TO KISS HER. Of course, she nailed me in the balls before I could get very far, but STILL…_

_Oh, and you'll love this. Later on that night, I ran into that tool she calls a boyfriend, drunk off his ASS, and guess what? He's cheating on her! JOHNNY NITRO is cheating on MELINA! Yeah! I know! Who would have thought?_

_And here's the best part; this is the part that'll REALLY kill you—I got MAD at HIM! For cheating on HER! Melina's only the biggest banshee on both rosters, but I got MAD because Nitro's screwing around on her behind her back! And here's the kicker: for the teensiest second—an instant, really—I felt SORRY for her! Sorry! For HER! _

_Isn't that funny? Isn't that HILARIOUS?_

"Nothing really," Jeff replied after only the briefest hesitation, amazed at how normal his voice sounded.

The pair walked slowly across the parking lot in silence for another minute or two, before Maria took a deep breath. Jeff felt her small frame tense up, and when she turned her face toward his again, her pretty features were fixed in a countenance of nervous seriousness. "Jeff…could I talk to you for a bit?" She glanced back behind them, taking in the handful of backstage personnel and other Superstars scattered across the parking area. "Not here; someplace more private."

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior kept his expression neutral, but inside, he felt his stomach give a sudden sickening lurch. "Sure thing," he answered calmly. He let Maria lead him into the arena, to a hallway devoid of equipment or other people. The backstage reporter reluctantly pulled away from him, turning to face him. Jeff leaned back against the wall, started to cross his arms over his chest, decided that it looked too intimidating, and settled for shoving them in his pockets instead. He stared intently at the Raw Diva opposite him.

Maria didn't speak at first; merely looked down at her feet, shuffling them back and forth. She twisted her hands together in front of her, fidgeting with the silver rings adorning her fingers. When she finally glanced back up at Jeff, her face was composed, but one look in her green eyes told him otherwise; she was so nervous that she was almost shaking. To Jeff, she looked like a scared little puppy, and his heart abruptly went out to her. Impulsively, he moved toward her, reaching out to cover her hands with both of his. The backstage reporter blushed and ducked her head again, but she didn't pull away. Jeff gently touched her chin, tilting her head up until her eyes met his once more. "Hey," he remarked softly. "It's okay; you can tell me." He slid his fingers along the curve of her cheek, tucking a lock of hair back behind her ear. "Is something wrong?"

Maria shook her head fiercely. "No…nothing's wrong." She hesitated for a moment, blushing even harder. "I mean…I _hope_ nothing's wrong." She looked down at her feet again, but before Jeff could ask what her enigmatic comment meant, the Raw Diva blurted out: "I like you, okay?"

Her doe-like eyes flicked up, locking on his, and Jeff was momentarily stunned by the intensity of emotion burning in their depths. Maria glanced to the side, as though checking for possible eavesdroppers, but the stretch of hallway was still deserted. Nevertheless, the backstage reporter lowered her voice. "And I don't mean just as a friend—I like you a _lot_." She ducked her head again, her long brown hair falling down over her face. She was still talking, her words tumbling over one another so fast that Jeff had to struggle to understand her. "You're the coolest guy I've ever met: you're sweet, you're funny, and I love hanging out with you. But whenever I look at you—" Another pause, another quick shuffle of feet. "I feel like there's something more there; like what we have could be something more. And I guess…what I want to know is…" Maria lifted her lids, her green eyes boring into his once more. She swallowed hard. "…whether or not you feel the same way about me."

Jeff had this momentary sensation of being trapped in a nightmare; the one where he was taking a test that he hadn't studied for. He'd sensed for a while that this talk was coming; the inevitable More-Than-Just-Friends discussion. However, that wasn't making standing here any easier, listening to Maria while trying to swallow a ludicrous feeling of dread—the feeling that, no matter which option he chose, he would be making the biggest mistake of his life.

If he rejected Maria, then he was just an idiot, plain and simple. The Raw Diva was drop-dead gorgeous, laid-back, fun to be around, adorable—she could have had any guy she wanted, and she was willing to settle for his broken-down daredevil ass. And it wasn't as though he didn't like her, because he _did_. A _lot_. It was only natural that he and Maria should take their relationship to the next level—so why was he hesitating? Why was he fighting this?

Maybe because, deep down, Maria wasn't the one that he really wanted. Maybe because, lately, his thoughts were full of someone else—

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior almost laughed at this, holding back his humorless mirth with effort. Was _that_ what this hesitation, this indecision, was all about? Jesus Christ… why was he_ still_ making a federal case out of this? Because four days ago, he had gone a little nuts and tried to kiss his archrival's girlfriend? Because, for one second, he had thought that something actually existed between them?

The only thing between him and Melina was pure, unadulterated hatred—and this past Monday's attempt had been nothing short of madness.

Why was he making this so difficult? It wasn't like Maria was proposing _marriage_. Maybe he didn't love her, but no one was asking him to. Hell, _she_ wasn't even asking him to. Most likely, their relationship wouldn't even change—except now he'd get to kiss her, and _that_ would be pretty damn awesome.

Choose the pretty girl standing in front of him, or dwell on the bitchy one who couldn't stand him—it didn't seem like a hard decision at all; even a burnout like him could see what the obvious choice was.

Maria was still talking, apparently believing that she hadn't argued her case strongly enough: "If you don't, that's cool; I don't want to force you into anything that isn't mutual. I just want to want to know _now_, before I get my heart broken—" Her flow of words ceased as Jeff placed his fingers over her lips, silencing her.

The Charismatic Enigma looked down at her, his mouth curling up into an affectionate smile. Nope, not a hard decision at all. "First of all…" he began. "Take a breath, _please_." The backstage reporter's cheeks flushed a bright pink. "Second…" Jeff continued. "You're not forcing me into anything. I think you're awesome, 'Ria. I want—" He hesitated for only the slightest second before going on. "I want to see where this goes, too. I mean…I think there's something more between us. I mean—" The Rainbow-Haired Warrior stopped, feeling his own face start to burn. "Geez, can you tell it's been a while since I've done this?"

He looked the Raw Diva straight in the eye. Maria's green irises were shining with hope. "Screw this," Jeff remarked bluntly. "'Ria…will you be my girlfriend?"

The radiance and happiness that lit up Maria's face was so bright that it almost blinded him. The backstage reporter squealed with delight, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tight. "_Yes_!" she exclaimed exuberantly. "Yes, yes, _yes_!"

Jeff returned her embrace, unable to keep the smile off his own face. After a while, Maria pulled back a little, her beautiful face only inches from his. The Charismatic Enigma felt a faint stirring of the old familiar panic. He wasn't sure whether the questions on this exam were multiple-choice or true/false. "Sorry," he admitted sheepishly. "I'm a little rusty…I'm not really sure we should go from here."

Maria smiled, her features full of that adorable sweetness he found so endearing. "Me neither," the backstage reporter replied. She reached up tentatively, caressing his cheek with her fingers. Her touch was light, warm, and Jeff felt a kind of peace fall over him. He had made the right choice.

Maria's high-pitched voice dropped to a whisper. "So let's just make it up as we go along." Tiptoeing up, she kissed him softly on the lips.

* * *

Melina Perez was in a foul mood.

Part of it was Johnny's fault. The Intercontinental Champion had returned to their hotel room on Tuesday morning, right as Melina was about to leave for the airport, extremely hungover and extremely irritable. So irritable, in fact, that the paparazzi princess decided not to press him on his whereabouts the previous night.

Three days of rest and relaxation had apparently cured the hangover, but not the attitude, as Melina unfortunately learned this morning. All Johnny had done during the flight to New York and the drive to the arena was bitch and moan—not about his head this time, but rather, about his title defense in two days—and his Unforgiven opponent, Jeff Hardy.

And therein lay the other half of her crappy view of the world, the additional contributing factor to her annoyance with life. Whatever blame could not be attributed to Johnny could be laid squarely to rest on the Rainbow-Haired Warrior's shoulders. She had managed to banish Jeff from her thoughts for the past three days, but yet, the second she had set foot in this arena, the entire humiliating episode from the past edition of Raw returned to her, slamming into her with brutal force. How he had tossed paint on her, how he had pushed her up against the wall, how he had—

_No._ She would not think about that. She would be _damned_ if she would dwell on that any more. In two days, Jeff Hardy would get the ass-kicking that he deserved, and she would be rid of him once and for all.

Even as the Dominant Diva contented herself with this vision of the future, however, another notion continued to trouble her. Namely—_why hadn't she told Johnny what had happened_? The Intercontinental Champion might be looking forward to his title defense with the same enthusiasm one reserves for a root canal, but that didn't mean he didn't want to beat the younger Hardy brother senseless. All during the trip here, Nitro had practically been begging for a reason to knock Jeff on his ass, and she could have given it to him. _Lord knows_ she could have given it to him.

Throwing paint on your girlfriend? Oh, yeah.

Putting hands on your girlfriend? _Oh, yeah._

Trying to kiss your girlfriend? _Oh, HELL yeah_.

So why hadn't she said anything? With all that the Charismatic Enigma had done to her, why had she remained mute? Why was she protecting him?

Melina touched her mouth, running her fingers over her lower lip. Even after four days, she could still feel the dry brush of his mouth against hers, could still feel the heat that had welled up inside her at that light touch. And she could still recall the single irrational thought that had flitted through her mind, an instant before reflex had kicked in and saved her: that she had wanted him to kiss her…and she had wanted to kiss him back—

This unwanted recollection was driven from her mind, along with everything else, when she turned the corner and saw the couple kissing. Melina's automatic response was to turn around and exit the way she came, but that action, too, was arrested as she saw who the pair was.

Jeff wrapped his arms around Maria's waist, pulling her against him as he intensified the kiss. Maria held his face in both her hands; her body was molded perfectly against his.

Melina wanted to look away, but found that she couldn't; she was in the grip of every human's voyeuristic desire to _look_, to _see_. She couldn't move; her body had been seized by paralysis. It was like a bad dream, only this time, the danger wasn't behind her, but right in front of her. They looked so perfect with one another, as though they belonged together. They looked…_happy_.

The paparazzi princess felt herself begin to shake, the tremors starting in her stomach and radiating outward. And she knew, with a cold certainty, that if she didn't get out of this corridor _right now_…she was going to throw up.

Slowly, with effort, the Dominant Diva retreated back the way she had come. Her hand shot out, grabbing onto the wall for support. For a few seconds, her slender fingers curved into talons, scratching along the cinderblock's porous painted surface. And then she was out of sight, the disgusting tableau no longer playing out before her.

Melina sagged against the wall, letting her breath out in a deep sigh. With one hand, she reached up, groping for a second or two before locating her designer sunglasses. She pulled them down over her eyes, making the world around her darker and less distinct, shutting out reality.

Her day had officially gone from bad to downright shitty.

* * *

Jeff pressed both hands against the wall, squatting down in a deep knee bend as he prepared for his match. He was tagging with Carlito tonight against Randy Orton and the A-List Douchebag. And wherever Johnny Nitro went, Melina was sure to follow…

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior shook his head, giving himself an enormous mental slap. Why the _fuck_ was he still dwelling on that harpy? He was with Maria now--_definitely_ with Maria—and he should be thinking about _her_, _not_ Melina. What was his problem?

His problem was that he _was_ thinking about Maria: he was thinking that as great as their kiss had been earlier—and it had been _great_—it had been just that, a kiss. No fireworks, no electricity, no explosions.

Certainly not what had happened when he had felt Melina's skin beneath his fingertips.

The Charismatic Enigma tried to focus on his impending match, tried to tell himself that he was stressing himself out over nothing—but yet, he couldn't shake the notion that he had just made a huge mistake…

A boot caught him in the ankle, knocking him off-balance. Jeff fell to one knee, catching himself with both hands. He looked up, glaring at the culprit, and was not at all surprised to see Johnny Nitro smirking down at him. And just beside the Intercontinental Champion, an identical sneer on her face…

Jeff's gaze slid over to the paparazzi princess, and for just a moment, just an _instant_, their eyes met…and held. But in the next instant, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior looked away, _forced _himself to, choosing instead to focus on his nemesis.

The Intercontinental Champion shrugged, making a show of phony innocence. "You know, Mel, they really should stop leaving trash out in the hallway for beautiful people like you and me to trip over."

Jeff's response was to roll his eyes and pull himself to his feet. He was used to Nitro's brand of immature intimidation by now; his only consolation was that in a little while, he would be face-to-face with that fur coat-wearing motherfucker in the ring, where words were certainly not going to help him.

Nitro went on, unaware that he was entertaining no one except himself. "Rumor has it, Hardy, that you actually managed to land yourself a girlfriend." At this, Jeff froze, but didn't say anything. The Intercontinental Champion chuckled derisively, reaching over to encircle Melina's waist with his arm. He went on, not noticing that his girlfriend had tensed the same moment that Jeff had. "Why doesn't it surprise me that the legendary _Jeff Hardy _would have to settle for the one chick who's a complete idiot?"

Jeff felt his hand clench into a fist, so hard that it hurt. But Nitro wasn't finished. "She probably said yes just because she's too dumb to see what a _loser_ you are—"

The Charismatic Enigma felt his rage explode outward. Talking shit about him was one thing: he had a thick skin, he could take it. But doing so about Maria, who had done nothing to deserve it— Jeff lunged toward the self-proclaimed A-lister, swinging up his fist in preparation for the first blow, and feeling a small thrill of satisfaction at seeing the pretty-boy shrink back a little. "You shut your _fucking mouth_ about her—" the Rainbow-Haired Warrior spat through clenched teeth.

"Hey, _hey_!" Through the red haze of his rage, Jeff felt a hand press against his chest holding him back. His vision gradually cleared, and he looked down to see that Melina had entered the fray, inserting herself between the two men. The Dominant Diva looked from Nitro to him and then back again. "_Stop it_." she commanded softly. Reluctantly, the two Superstars complied, each moving back a step or two.

Melina looked back at him, and Jeff felt something inside him clench when those brown eyes met his. He could still feel the warm pressure of her hand on his chest. Seriously, what was _wrong _with him? The paparazzi princess stared at him, the faintest tinge of pink coloring her cheeks. "It's not his fault," she whispered, and for a heartbeat, Jeff actually thought that she was talking to him. That they were the only two people in this hallway, and Nitro didn't even exist.

Then, as he watched, her expression changed, lapsing back into that familiar countenance of haughty disdain, and the Charismatic Enigma realized that such was not the case. "It's not his fault—" the paparazzi princess repeated, her voice full of bright mockery. "—that he can't beat you—" She moved back toward Nitro, her movements slow and seductive. "—that he has to settle for a bimbo—" The Dominant Diva reached up, entwining her arms around Nitro's neck. Her tone dropped to a sibilant purr. "—that despite all his _fluke_ wins, he'll never…_ever_…get anything as hot…as…me." With that, she pulled Nitro down into a passionate kiss, pressing her curvaceous body against his.

Jeff watched them kiss, unable to stop a feeling of blank hatred from taking hold of him. _Do you know that he's cheating on you?…_he screamed silently at Melina. _Do you know that while you're lying in bed at night, he's out sticking his dick in other women? Do you honestly have no clue…or do you just not care_?

And as he looked on mutely, he felt another emotion latch onto him; an emotion he was all too familiar with. That emotion was jealousy—

Abruptly, the A-List pair broke apart, and Jeff quickly pasted a smile on his face, as though their PDA had done nothing but amuse him. "Yeah, that's right," he remarked sarcastically. "Just go ahead and suck face in my presence—I'll just remember this the next time I need to induce vomiting."

He started to sidle around them, but Nitro suddenly grabbed his shoulder, hauling him back. "What's the matter, Hardy?" the Intercontinental Champion sneered. "See something you want? Something you'll _never_ have?" His tone was light, but there was an implied threat lingering at the edges of his words.

Jeff stared back at him, thinking only that he had been right the first time: this pair _definitely_ deserved each other. "Listen, dude, the only thing of _yours_ that _I _want…is that Intercontinental Championship." He glanced over at the blue-and-gold title belt draped over Nitro's shoulder. The self-proclaimed A-lister's smirk gradually dissipated.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior leaned in close, his mouth curving in a smirk of his own. "Tell you what: at Unforgiven…I'll take the belt—"

He jabbed his thumb in Melina's direction, never once taking his eyes off Nitro. "—_you_ keep the skank."

Having claimed the final word, Jeff Hardy strolled away, whistling a Lostprophets tune softly under his breath.

For a moment, both Nitro and Melina were too stunned to respond. Then, without warning, Nitro exploded, tearing the sunglasses from his face and storming forward. "Goddamn asshole son of a _bitch_!" he snarled. "I'm gonna kick his fucking _ass_—"

Melina grabbed his arm, more out of habit than anything else. "Don't, Johnny," she snapped, her voice icy and authoritative. Nitro scowled, but grudgingly obeyed, easing his championship belt further up onto his shoulder. "Don't listen to him," the Dominant Diva went on. She watched Jeff disappear around a corner at the end of the hall. "He's just jealous."

Even as she said it, however, Melina wondered who the jealous one actually was: Jeff Hardy…or herself.


	9. Chapter 9: You Don't Know Me At All

**A/N: Yay, a new chapter! For those of you who read the OS that inspired this story, you'll recognize some elements of this chapter. I tweaked it a little bit, changed some things so it would fit in better with the story as a whole. This chapter is slightly more epic (i.e. longer) than the ones I've done recently, so it took me a bit to get it right. Hopefully, you'll enjoy it. Peace!**

**Thank you to **alethea293, sexigirl08, miles89, Esha Napoleon, BettyChampGirl, **and **extremist **for your reviews! You're awesome! Love yas!

* * *

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Chapter 9: You Don't Know Me At All

Melina gripped the bottom rope with both hands, peering anxiously at the two occupants inside the ring. "C'mon, baby," she urged softly, biting her lower lip.

Even if she had screamed it, Nitro probably still wouldn't have heard her; he was too focused on applying an ankle lock to Jeff's left leg. The Intercontinental Champion tossed his highlighted tresses back from his face, glaring at the unappreciative Toronto fans that were simultaneously cheering Hardy and booing him.

It was the night of Unforgiven, and Round Two of the Hardy/Nitro rivalry had been selected to kick off the pay-per-view. While Melina was slightly annoyed that her boyfriend had been relegated to the insignificant opening match slot, she was also somewhat relieved. If Jeff Hardy lost this bout tonight, he would be lucky if he _ever_ got a shot at the title again. All Nitro had to do was pin his shoulders to the mat for three seconds, and this burned-out daredevil would be history. She and Nitro could call it an early night, head out to the nearest nightclub to celebrate—and she could forget all about this loser Jeff Hardy. Forget his eyes, forget his mocking half-smile…

Forget the electricity that coursed through her body when he touched her…

Unfortunately, eradicating the Rainbow-Haired Warrior from her life was not going as smoothly as she'd hoped. Much like a nasty virus, Hardy was proving himself to be quite resilient. Nitro had taken control early on, targeting one of Jeff's legs and effectively grounding the high flyer. But for some reason, the Charismatic Enigma refused to quit, breaking out of every pin cover, and rising to his feet every time he was knocked down. Right now, for instance, Jeff had to be in incredible pain from the hold Nitro had cinched on his injured leg, but instead of tapping, the younger Hardy brother merely gritted his teeth and slowly inched his lean frame toward the ropes.

Melina remembered—with some annoyance—dealing with his older brother Matt back on SmackDown. Man, he'd been obnoxious, always causing grief for her, Nitro, and Mercury, and blathering on about how he "would not die".

Apparently, this particular breed of stubbornness ran in the family.

In the ring, Jeff succeeded in reaching the ropes, grabbing onto them and forcing Nitro to break the hold. The Intercontinental Champion grudgingly obliged, but as soon as the Rainbow-Haired Warrior was up, Nitro grabbed hold of his leg once more, pulling him back toward the center of the ring. Jeff hopped along awkwardly on one foot, but before the self-proclaimed A-lister could lock in another submission hold, the Charismatic Enigma launched his body upward, catching Nitro right in the jaw with a mule kick.

The ecstatic roars of the crowd drowned out Melina's shrieks. The Dominant Diva pressed her hand over her mouth, shocked. However, in the next instant, the shock had passed and her expression reverted to its original one of icy hatred. She gripped the bottom rope with both hands, glaring at the younger Hardy brother. _Stay down, Hardy…_ she thought to herself furiously. _Just fucking STAY DOWN…_

Jeff, of course, didn't hear her, or even so much as glance in her direction; he was too busy pulling Nitro to his feet, tucking the Intercontinental Champion's head under his arm in preparation for the Twist of Fate. The self-proclaimed A-lister quickly wriggled free, though, tackling Jeff's injured leg and taking them both down. Once there, Nitro cinched the wounded limb in a leg lock, this one much more secure than the previous submission hold. Just like before, Jeff tried to inch toward the ropes, but the Intercontinental Champion mercilessly dragged him back to the center of the ring, increasing the pressure on the hold.

Melina brought her hands together in a show of applause, casting a satisfied smirk over her shoulder at the dismayed group of fans behind her. It was all over now; not even the legendary Jeff Hardy could hold out much longer. Soon, he would have no choice but to tap out, and this arena would get to see first-hand just how big a loser their idol truly was.

The paparazzi princess made a tapping motion, smiling sweetly. Too bad Hardy couldn't see her—she would have _loved_ to see the pain and suffering etched across his face, along with the gradual realization that he couldn't win this match. Not tonight. Not against _Johnny Nitro._ "Tap, Jeff," the Dominant Diva cooed, her voice like poisoned honey. "Just go ahead and tap—"

Her words died away and her smirk vanished as Jeff suddenly arched his body off the canvas, rolling both him and Nitro toward the ropes. The Intercontinental Champion hung on, trying to ground himself, but he was no match for the younger Hardy brother's burst of adrenalin. Once he was within reach of the ropes, Jeff grabbed onto them, clinging to them with both arms.

The paparazzi princess screamed, tearing at her red-brown curls with both hands. What was it going to _take_ to put Jeff Hardy down? This guy was a loser, a burnout; Johnny was the Intercontinental Champion, the _future_ of this business. Why was this happening; why was the Rainbow-Haired Warrior so hard to kill?

In the ring, Nitro sat back on his haunches, clearly irritated. Melina could hear his frustrated: "Come _on_!" from where she stood. The Dominant Diva abruptly climbed up onto the apron, holding onto the ropes for balance. All she needed was a few seconds, a few brief moments to distract the referee—allowing Nitro to inflict a little illegal punishment behind his back. The fans would bitch about it—but then again, what did they really know?

The first part of her plan worked perfectly; instantly, referee Jack Doan was at the ropes, glaring down at her. "Get off the apron!" the WWE official ordered. However, what happened immediately after was certainly _not_ planned for.

In retrospect, she realized that Johnny must have been going for the leg lock again. At that particular moment, however, all Melina saw was the muscular frame of her boyfriend hurtling across the ring toward her, and then the force of the impact as he crashed into her, knocking her off the apron.

The paparazzi princess hit the floor hard, landing awkwardly on her ankle. Instantly, pain flared up her leg, driving everything else into insignificance. The match, Hardy, even Johnny—none of that mattered anymore; the only issue of importance was determining whether or not she had broken her ankle in the fall. The Dominant Diva rolled over onto her side, gingerly probing her leg with her fingers. It didn't _feel_ broken, but she wouldn't know for sure until she got her boot off.

From the way the crowd was practically having an orgasm, something of great importance must have been happening in the ring above her. But Melina—for once—couldn't care less. She was too focused on unzipping her black leather stiletto boot and removing it from her injured foot. This accomplished, she massaged her ankle again, wiggling it back and forth tentatively. Twisted, for sure, but certainly not broken.

The paparazzi princess let out a quiet sigh of relief. Injuries were always the bane of a wrestler's existence, but even more so in her case. Her signature entrance was the only thing that distinguished her from the other Divas on the roster; take that away and she was of no more importance than that little skank on ECW, the one whose only talent seemed to consist of taking her clothes off.

By now, Melina had completely forgotten about the match; therefore, it wasn't surprising when she shrieked a little in shock as Jeff's head suddenly emerged from between the ropes. The Charismatic Enigma's eyes were closed and he was breathing hard; he didn't seem to be aware of her presence. The Dominant Diva's eyes narrowed and her fingers closed a little tighter around the smooth leather of her boot.

Melina was well aware of Shane McMahon's directive regarding her interference; at this point, the last thing she wanted was the match restarted while she watched helplessly from backstage. But this was different: she was outside the ring, the referee was nowhere in sight—and as everyone who had spent more than two seconds in a wrestling ring was well aware, the referee couldn't call what he couldn't see.

Besides, the Chairman's son should have understood better than anyone else what it was like to be constantly hounded by someone; to be insulted and humiliated at every turn, and no matter what you did, you never seemed to be able to make them _stay down…_

_I'll take the belt…you keep the skank…_

It wasn't this remark, however, that stirred her into action. Nor was it the Intercontinental Championship, or even concern for her boyfriend. Rather, it was the memory of Jeff and Maria kissing in that hallway, of the younger Hardy brother's arms entwined around that bimbo's waist—

With a low snarl, the paparazzi princess swung her boot upward, aiming for the Rainbow-Haired Warrior's head. Just before she connected, Jeff's eyes flicked open, locking onto hers. Awareness flashed across his green irises, and in that moment, in that single instant, Melina was gripped by a sudden irrational panic, the thought that she shouldn't do this, that she should _stop_—

But it was too late.

The boot crashed into Jeff's face, knocking him back into the ring. Melina crouched down beside the apron, lest the ref should notice her interference and call for a DQ. But the match continued, and in a few seconds, she heard the comforting thud of the official's hand as he called the three-count, followed by the even more glorious sound of the ring bell, signaling the end of the match.

The Dominant Diva rose to her feet, putting all of her weight on her uninjured leg. The crowd was rabid, venting all of its animosity in her general direction. She caught a few of their epithets—_Bitch Whore Slut Skank—_but for the most part, Melina was able to block it out. She had spent the last year becoming immune to the fans' petty hatred, and while it occasionally smarted, it didn't really wound her anymore.

This insensitivity, this ability to not feel, not _care_, had become as natural to her as breathing. But more and more—and especially tonight—Melina was realizing that it was an act; that despite her best intentions, she really _did_ care…

The paparazzi princess limped toward the front of the ring. Johnny was already crawling toward it as well, Intercontinental Championship clutched protectively to him. Once he was out of the ring, she would join him and raise his arm in victory, and then they would walk backward up the ramp, gloating, while Jeff paced back and forth, swearing revenge. She knew the script; she had seen it played out a hundred, a _thousand_ times before.

But this time, the Dominant Diva looked back, casting one last look at the fallen Warrior. Jeff lay on his back in the ring, staring up at the lights, a dazed expression on his face. Melina regarded him wordlessly, making sure her features wore their usual countenance of haughty satisfaction—and wondering why, this time, she was finding this particular expression so hard to keep in place.

* * *

Jeff limped out of the gorilla area, favoring his right leg. Behind him, he could hear the pulsating music and explosions of "The Marine" movie trailer, mingled with the cheers of the fans, who were still buzzing about the match they had just witnessed.

The Charismatic Enigma didn't blame them; from a purely abstract point of view, it _had_ been a hell of a match. Johnny Nitro was one tough competitor, and Jeff had no doubt that they had given the fans one awesome bout.

There were only two problems: the fact that, athletic prowess or not, Nitro was still a total dick—and the way the match had ended.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior knew that he should be mad, _furious_, over Melina's interference. But for some reason, Jeff couldn't summon up anything more than a dull feeling of inevitability. It sucked to lose, it sucked _a lot_—but to be honest, he had been expecting a stunt like this since learning about his rematch.

Granted, he hadn't anticipated a boot to the skull, but hey, he was learning. Slowly but surely, he was learning that Melina could not be trusted, and that despite any evidence to the contrary, there was nothing in the Dominant Diva that was good or decent or kind-hearted. There was nothing in her but emptiness, and Jeff was through wasting his hatred on a chick who didn't feel.

"Hey, man!"

Jeff looked up in surprise at the sound of his brother's voice. Matt Hardy, who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, walked over, clapping him on the shoulder, a sympathetic smile on his face. "You okay?"

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior nodded wordlessly, still stunned by the sudden appearance of his older sibling. Matt went on. "Listen, man, I know you just got robbed out there—but don't let that get you down." He gave his brother an appreciative slap on the shoulder. "You did great, man. I'm proud of you."

Despite himself, Jeff felt a grin slip across his face. Matt could be patronizing at times, and the two of them had had their problems in the past, but at the end of the day, they were and always would be each other's biggest fans. Just the fact that Matt had arrived to show his support, at his brother's first pay-per-view match in over three years, meant a lot to him, and Jeff was glad for the encouragement.

His grin faded, however, as did Matt's, at the sound of slow sarcastic applause, followed by a familiar alto drawl: "You did great, Jeff, you did great."

The brothers turned in unison, their expressions simultaneously shutting down at the sight of Lita. The Women's Champion's response was a satisfied smirk. She turned toward Matt, as though noticing him for the first time. "What do we have here? A good ol' Team XTreme reunion?" Her hazel eyes flicked back to Jeff. "So…whatcha guys been up to? I mean, _not_ winning championships, obviously, right?

The Rated R Diva eased her red-and-gold title belt further up onto her shoulder as she continued. "Jeff, you _would _be a champion if you weren't such a…screw-up. But Matt—" Lita turned back toward her ex-boyfriend. "_You'd_ be a champion if—wait, who am I kidding?" The Queen of Hardcore laughed, a low mocking sound. "You'll _never_ be a champion. But I'll tell you what…"

The red-haired Diva inched closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Since you're here—you can watch _me_ beat Trish Stratus…and then, just a little later on…you can watch _Edge_ beat John Cena, and then _you_—" This last word was directed at Matt, who stared back at Lita with absolutely no emotion.

The Women's Champion went on, unfazed. "_You _can face him on SmackDown when Edge sends him packing." Her smoky voice became a husky purr. "Just like he did to _you_. _Last year_." The exes stared at each other, and Jeff was reminded of the chemistry that had once existed between the two of them. In some ways, the chemistry was still there—only now, it was comprised almost entirely of hate.

The Rated R Diva stepped back, grinning at the two brothers as though this had been just another conversation about nothing. "So…" she chirped brightly. "We should do this again sometime." Fluttering her fingers in a goodbye wave, the Queen of Hardcore strolled away.

Jeff rolled his eyes. "Just like old times," he remarked, turning to his brother for comment. Matt didn't seem to have heard; he was too busy staring off at the departing figure of his ex-girlfriend. Jeff felt a surge of brotherly love and protection toward his elder sibling. Lita had put Matt through hell, but it was obvious that, in spite of all that, he still loved her. Deep down, he would probably _always_ love her—none of the past year's events could change that.

Matt abruptly stirred from his internal reverie, glancing back at his brother. "Where was I?" he remarked, as though nothing had happened. A sudden playful grin lit up his face. "Oh, wait, _now_ I remember…so Ash tells me that you and Maria Kanellis are the new hot item here on Raw."

Jeff felt his cheeks flush. He quickly ducked his head, awaiting the inevitable joking that would follow. Matt chuckled, clapping his younger brother on the shoulder again. "Relax, dude, I'm not here to bust your balls about it—although, I have to say…Maria? High five, man!" The elder Hardy brother raised his hand and Jeff obligingly slapped it.

Matt went on. "I came here to see if you and her wanted to hang out with Ash and I after the show. You know: some drinks, some good conversation…how 'bout it, bro?"

Jeff pondered this for several seconds, and then shrugged. "Sure," the Charismatic Enigma agreed. "Anything to forget about this match."

_Anything to forget about HER…

* * *

_

Melina drummed her fingers against the bar, her perfectly manicured fingernails beating out an impatient taboo on the wood surface. Honestly, she was going to shoot this bartender when he returned…It was bad enough that he'd been hitting on her hardcore ever since she'd stepped up to order, or that his gaze had never strayed any higher than her chest. But now, to actually make her _wait_…

Okay, so maybe there were a lot of other people in this club, all of them just as eager to procure alcohol. But Melina was willing to bet that none of them were the A-List Diva, the paparazzi princess, the girlfriend to the _current_ Intercontinental Champion. In short, none of them were _her_—and if that didn't entitle her to a little extra service, then, really, what was the _point_?

At that point, the elusive bartender reappeared, bearing glasses in both hands. He set them down carefully on the bar in front of him, grinning at the Dominant Diva. "Here you are, angel," he announced. "_Dos_ margaritas." The bartender leaned closer, his mouth curving in what he probably thought was a cocky smile. His gaze was still blatantly glued to her cleavage. "Don't tell me, though, that a beautiful woman like you is drinking all by herself."

_I'd rather drink alone than with you…_Melina replied silently. _You haven't shaved and you look like you wash your hair in the frying medium…_

The paparazzi princess abruptly snapped her fingers. "Hey!" Startled, the bartender glanced up. Melina pointed her index and middle fingers at her eyes. "Eyes up here, pal!" The guy flushed at having his overt staring discovered. The Dominant Diva rolled her eyes, tossing a folded bill at the hapless bartender. "Keep the change." She didn't stay to watch him fumble to catch the bill, but instead, grabbed both glasses and whirled around on her spike heels, striding away from the bar.

The club was fairly crowded for a Sunday night, and Melina had to cross the dance floor in order to reach the curtained-off VIP area she and Nitro had acquired. The paparazzi princess was a little buzzed by now, and navigating through a crush of bodies on high heels with a pair of full glasses proved to be more than a little challenging. She had made it through the obstacle course fairly unscathed when she was jostled hard in the side by someone's elbow. The Dominant Diva stumbled, almost falling to her knees. The liquid sloshed around in the glasses, slopping over the sides and spilling out over her hands. Melina turned around, furious. "Watch where the _fuck_ you're going!" she snarled, her words coming out slightly slurred.

The culprit, a skanky-looking brunette, regarded her coolly for a second before turning back to her gaggle of friends. Melina pressed her lips together in a thin line, her dark eyes narrowed. _You got off easy, bitch…_she thought to herself. _Next time, I won't be so nice…_

For not the first time, she wondered (with no small amount of irritation) why Johnny couldn't have gotten the drinks. True, he had had one hell of a match tonight against Jeff Hardy and he deserved a little R and R. But people tended to step aside for a six-foot-tall Greek god, as opposed to his considerably shorter girlfriend. And besides, being Nitro's girlfriend didn't make Melina his own personal waitress. After all, he wouldn't have walked away with that title tonight if it hadn't been for her—

Melina quickly snatched the thought out of midair before it could complete itself. That kind of thinking was dangerous; it implied that she was less than content with Johnny, when there was absolutely no reason for her to be. True, Nitro could be temperamental and sometimes, he tended to act more like a child than a grown man. But he was also the only person who had believed in her, the only one who listened to her when she was still a developmental Diva with dreams of something more. And together, they _had _achieved something more. She and Nitro—they were more than just the Intercontinental Champion and his girlfriend. They were the _future_, and no one was going to stand in their way—certainly not _Jeff Hardy_.

For a second, Melina felt the tiniest twinge of…what? Conscience? Regret? _Guilt_? But the paparazzi princess swiftly shook it off, passing the pang of emotion off as a side effect of the alcohol. Jeff had had his chance…it wasn't her fault that he had blown it.

Okay, maybe it _technically_ _was_ her fault, but the Rainbow-Haired Warrior should have known that in a championship situation, you do whatever you have to to win.

The Dominant Diva stopped in front of the curtained-off VIP area, casting a glance down to make sure that none of the margarita mixture had spilled onto her clothes. Satisfied, she reached out to nudge the curtain aside—and then froze as a feminine giggle floated out from within.

Melina felt her heart stutter to a halt. Slowly, with legs that wobbled and threatened to sent her to the ground, she moved closer to the curtain, trying not to disturb it, trying not to make a sound. She heard Johnny's voice: smooth, confident, also slightly slurred: "Kelly! Don't tell me you came all the way from ECW just to see me!"

There was another giggle, followed by a high-pitched bubbly tone: "Of course not, silly! I came to see the pay-per-view! But you did really great tonight; I was _so _excited when you won." The Dominant Diva immediately recognized the voice as belonging to that little blond ECW whore, Kelly Kelly. Why the girl needed two names in order to function, Melina had no idea.

"Is that so?" Even though she couldn't see him, Melina could still picture the expression on his face. There was a pause. "So…_Kelly_…" Nitro's voice took on a flirtatious edge, and Melina felt her stomach turn. "You may not know this…but I'm a _big fan_ of your Expose…"

This wasn't happening. There was _no way_ that this was happening.

"So I was wondering…since you're _here_ and all…"

This was a dream. Any minute, any second now, she was going to wake up.

"…how you'd feel about giving the Intercontinental Champ a private show?"

The paparazzi princess felt her breath catch in her throat. She stood there, practically touching the curtain, every muscle in her body tensed, praying to wake up, to _wake up_. She would give up anything, would take back anything that she had said or done—if it would make this moment not happen.

But the divine intervention, the act of God, never came. All Melina heard was the annoying chirp of Kelly's voice: "Sure thing, Johnny! After all, I _am_ an exhibitionist—"

That was the last thing Melina heard. She couldn't feel her feet; all she knew was that they were carrying her away, away from the VIP area, away from Kelly, away from Johnny. But as fast as they carried her, they couldn't outrun the speed of her thoughts, of what people would say when they found out, of what they might _already_ besaying:

_So, you heard that Nitro's screwing around on Melina?_

_Really? Doesn't surprise me, though. Guy probably got tired of her screaming, just like the rest of us…_

_I don't blame him; that chick's just a spoiled brat…_

_Just a stuck-up little princess…_

_She doesn't care about anything…_

_She doesn't care about anyONE…_

And then Jeff's voice, thundering in her ears:

_The only thing you proved tonight is that you're nothing more than a golddigging bitch…_

Melina reached the back of the nightclub, almost colliding headfirst with the window. The large plate glass window offered a spectacular view of the city at night. Melina stared at it dully without really seeing it. For once in her life, she had no plan, no idea of what to do next. Manipulation and scheming had come so naturally to her when it involved other people—how quickly her views changed when it involved her own life.

If she pretended that this had never happened, if she stuck her head in the sand like an ostrich…then she was a coward, plain and simple. But if she went back there and confronted Johnny and he broke up with her…then she would have nothing. Without Johnny, she truly would be JAD, and once word of his infidelity got out, no one would ever take her seriously again. How could they, when she couldn't even control her own boyfriend?

The ironic thing was, she had finally convinced herself that Johnny was truly the only person she could trust. That was why she had spent so much time systematically burning bridges, because she'd assumed that he was the only one she would ever need. And in the end…he had been the one who had let her down. All this time, he had been staring into her eyes and telling her that he loved her—and all this time, he'd been lying to her face, sleeping around behind her back. Kelly wasn't the first; she could discern that much for herself. All those late nights, "grabbing a drink with the guys"—she couldn't believe what an idiot she'd been.

And now here she was, in Toronto, staring out the window, her existence already fractured beyond repair and a heartbeat away from shattering completely. Here she was, as she always had been…alone.

The Dominant Diva raised one of the margarita glasses to her lips, draining the liquid in a few savage gulps. Raising the other glass, she did the same thing to its contents. Melina was already half-drunk to begin with, and the force of the tequila hit her like a ton of bricks, throwing her equilibrium out of whack and making her sway.

But the paparazzi princess did not care. For once, she truly did not care about anything. The glasses slipped from her numb fingers, hitting and breaking against the floor. Raising her hands to her face, Melina began to cry.

* * *

"…and so then he asked: ''Ria, will you be my girlfriend?'" Maria finished, shooting an adoring look in Jeff's direction.

Matt burst out laughing, almost spraying his beer across the table, but was quickly silenced by a elbow to the ribs from his girlfriend. "Shh!" Ashley Massaro commanded, a smile playing at her lips. "It's _sweet_!" She shot her boyfriend a Look. "Besides, it's more romantic than you and me."

"What happened?" Jeff asked, taking a sip from his beer. "Was he all like: 'You're cute, we should go out.'?"

Ashley grinned playfully, sipping from her own glass. "No…I asked _him_ out."

"Okay…" Matt interjected, his face starting to turn red. "Maybe we should change the subject—"

"No, no, wait!" Jeff interrupted, grinning. "You never told me about this part!"

Ashley went on as though the two of them hadn't said anything. "And then, on our first date, he was so nervous that he kept talking about the TLC match you guys were in at Wrestlemania 17."

"Hey, I gotta side with my brother on that one, though," Jeff replied, reaching across the table to give his brother a fist pump. "That _was_ a pretty sweet match."

The two couples were crammed into a booth against the wall of the club, conveniently located near the bar. So far, the four of them had covered everything from the pay-per-view to favorite movies, and had just finished relating their various "how we met" stories.

Matt cleared his throat, still obviously embarrassed. "So _anyway_…about your match tonight, bro—"

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior held up his hands in mock protest. "Okay, I thought we agreed before we came here that we _weren't_ going to talk about my match tonight."

"Ooh! Ooh!" Maria raised her hand, scooting closer to Jeff. "I have something to talk about, and it's kind of about your match, but it kind of isn't." The younger Hardy brother gazed at her expectantly. The backstage reporter continued. "So, we _all_ know that the only reason you lost your match tonight is because of Melina." At this, Jeff flinched a little, but his expression didn't change. "So _I _was thinking…I talk to the other girls tomorrow, and we exact a little _Divas' Revenge_."

"Ooh, sounds sinister," Ashley remarked. "What happens?"

Maria shrugged. "Depends. See, this one time—you never heard this story." This statement was directed at Jeff. "This one time, Melina comes into the locker room, covered—and I mean _covered_—in purple paint. Don't ask me _how_; I don't know. And when I ask what happened, you know what she does? Smacks me in the face and storms into the showers." Maria leaned forward, her voice growing low and conspiratorial. "So while she's in the shower, scrubbing all that paint off...me and the other girls steal all the towels!"

She and Ashley burst into giggles. Only Matt saw a peculiar expression pass over Jeff's face, saw him shift uncomfortably in his seat.

The Dirty Diva gradually calmed down, leaning back in her seat. "Well, I should be heading back to the hotel." She glanced at Matt. "You and I both. You—" Ashley pointed at Maria. "—are coming with me. We must go forth and gossip and irritate Matt by giggling like little girls."

The elder Hardy brother rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Great, just great. If you need me, I'll be in the bathroom, making a noose to hang myself with." This comment earned him another elbow in the side, courtesy of Ashley. "Ow! Geez!"

The SmackDown Diva smiled sweetly back at him. "Serves you right."

Matt gingerly rubbed his wounded side, glanced across the table at his brother. "You coming too, man?"

"Actually…" The Rainbow-Haired Warrior hesitated for a second. "Actually, I think I'll hang out here for a bit."

Matt shrugged. "Suit yourself. Call me if you need a ride. Knowing these two, it'll be forever before they calm down."

"Okay, _Dad_," Ashley replied, rolling her eyes. The Dirty Diva grimaced. "Ew, wait, I take that back. That just took everything to a really creepy place."

Matt grinned. "Serves you right." He scooted out of the booth so that the SmackDown Diva could get out.

Jeff, meanwhile, turned toward Maria, gathering her to him in a hug. "See you tomorrow?"

Maria returned the hug. "Tomorrow. How about we carpool together?"

"Sounds great." The Charismatic Enigma pulled back, planting a soft kiss on her lips. "Have a good night."

"You too." As soon as Maria was out of the booth, Ashley laced her arm through hers, and the two of them strolled off, chattering away, Matt following behind like an unwilling chaperone.

Jeff watched them go, his smile fading as soon as they were out of sight. The younger Hardy brother leaned back against the vinyl seat, sighing. There was no denying that he'd had a great time tonight. He always enjoyed hanging out with his brother, and Ashley was like a badass little sister. But sitting there with Maria, and watching the two of them—it was an unwanted reminder that what Matt and Ashley clearly had, he just didn't feel when he was with Maria. And no matter how many times he tried to tell himself that these things took _time_, that feelings like this developed gradually…he was beginning to think that he would never feel that way about her.

Jeff studied the other people in the club through half-closed eyes. Suddenly, his green irises widened and he sat up as a familiar flash of color flitted across the background. Granted, it was dark, and it was only a glimpse, but still…it couldn't be…

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior rose to his feet, moving in the direction of the elusive flash of color. He wouldn't know for sure until he found out, and if for some reason, it _did_ turn out to be the Dominant Diva…

Well, then, he was certainly not going to pass up any opportunity to pay her back for what she had cost him.

* * *

Melina wept, pressing her face to the glass. Through the haze of alcohol, she still possessed a very strong sense of self-awareness, and right now, she was wondering just how she'd managed to go from the A-List Diva to the drunk girl crying in the corner. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, everything had gone straight to hell, and there was no way that her night could _possibly_ get any worse.

"Nice boots."

Scratch that—it just had.

Sniffing loudly, the paparazzi princess crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to afford Jeff Hardy so much as a _glance_.

The Charismatic Enigma was unfazed, however. He moved toward her, sarcasm dripping off his words. "See, I would know—'cause the last thing I remember about that match is seeing one of them rushing toward my head." Another beat, another step. "But you wouldn't know anything about that…would you?"

Normally, Melina would have chosen her words carefully, constructing her sentences so as to inflict the maximum amount of damage. But right now, she was drunk, and it was through this fog of tequila and sorrow that her words spilled out unrehearsed. "Fuck you, loser," she slurred. "Why don't you just go back to your shitty motel and bang your bimbo girlfriend?"

Jeff flinched, but not from what she had said. Melina was drunk, but beneath that, she was upset—really, genuinely _upset_. This anger, it was just a front to mask how miserable she truly was—and he was pretty sure he could guess the reason why. But recognizing this first glimpse of actual emotion in the Dominant Diva was not enough to make the Rainbow-Haired Warrior stop. Melina had put him through too much—and besides, it wasn't like she would have taken pity on _him_.

The younger Hardy brother moved closer, lowering his voice in mock sympathy. "What's the matter, princess? You break a nail?" He leaned down, until his lips were almost brushing her red-brown tresses. "Word of advice—get over yourself."

That did it. Melina whirled around, glaring at the Charismatic Enigma. Jeff had to jump back to avoid knocking heads with her. "_Shut up!_" the paparazzi princess shrieked. "Just _shut up, Hardy_!" She pointed at him, jabbing her finger into his chest. "You don't know me! You don't fucking know me _at all_!" She swayed unsteadily on her feet, almost falling, and Jeff quickly reached out to grab her arms, steadying her. Without thinking, he jammed his face into hers, his green eyes locking onto her brown ones.

"Oh, I don't?" the younger Hardy brother answered fiercely. Words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. "I bet I understand you better than anyone else. See, I think that you _want_ everyone to believe that you're cold as ice, that you _don't_ care, that there's _nothing here_—" He let go of her arm, reaching over to touch the spot just above her heart. "—because that's easier. It's _easier_ than convincing everyone that you _do_ care; that you actually feel bad about the shitty things that you do. Because that would mean admitting that you actually have a heart—and you can't do that, princess. It's not that you _can't _feel; it's that you _won't_."

Melina struggled to free herself, but Jeff hung on, pulling her closer to him. He could smell the warm scent of her skin, could feel its soft texture beneath his fingers. It was distracting, but he kept talking—because he wasn't finished yet. "See, princess, I think that, deep down, you even care about me. That you feel…_something_…when you look at me." The Rainbow-Haired Warrior let out a bitter laugh. "Because, believe it or not, princess…I feel it when I look at you."

At this, the Dominant Diva stopped struggling. She stared up at Jeff, her mouth hanging open. Her expression wasn't angry or spiteful or haughty; it was…_stunned_. And her eyes, when they met his, were perfectly clear and lucid, as though the haze of alcohol had parted just enough to allow her to comprehend this one moment, this single outpouring of emotion.

Jeff let go of her arms, reaching up to touch her face. Her cheek was soft, velvety, damp with the moisture of her tears. Without understanding why, but unable to stop, Jeff dipped his head down, covering her lips with his.

At first, he tensed up, certain that a second knee to the groin was sure to follow. But then he felt Melina's mouth melt open, felt her body press against his, and the Rainbow-Haired Warrior realized that this was _definitely not_ a repeat of last time. The Dominant Diva clung to him, pressing her hands against his chest. Jeff heard her soft moan of need, and answered it with a groan of his own, burying his hands in the silken weight of her hair.

He had no idea how long he kissed her, or how long she kissed him back; all he knew was that suddenly, Melina was pulling away, backing up from him. Her expression was a confused mixture of emotions, and she didn't seem to know where she was. Tentatively, Jeff reached out toward her. "Melina…" he murmured.

The paparazzi princess swatted his hand away. "Don't _touch_ me!" she exclaimed, but there was no anger in her voice. "Just…just don't touch me." She turned away, and Jeff caught her final remark just before she wandered off into the crowd: "I think I'm going to be sick…"

For a moment, Jeff actually considered going after her, but he quickly nixed that idea. He had to remember that Melina was drunk; once she sobered up tomorrow morning, she wouldn't remember any of this. And even if she did…it wouldn't change anything. They would still be enemies when the sun came up tomorrow morning.

The Charismatic Enigma stood there, lost in the memory of her scent, the taste of her lips. His head was still spinning from that kiss, and he felt electrified, as though someone had hooked him up to a car battery. He had kissed her…and she had kissed him back.

He was playing a dangerous game; he couldn't forget that. He had kissed his enemy's girlfriend, fully aware that he was doing so, and if news of this got back to Nitro, or to Maria, then people were going to get hurt. Besides, this was _Melina_, the woman who had cost him the Intercontinental Championship tonight, the woman who had gone out of her way to make his life miserable. If he was smart, he would forget about this; go back to Maria and forget this ever happened.

But Jeff Hardy wasn't thinking about any of that. All he could think of, the only thing he was _aware_ of, was that he had kissed Melina…and Melina had kissed him back.


	10. Chapter 10: Sweet Dreams

**A/N: Yay for new chapters! This one is a little shorter than I would normally like, but I got behind last week, and have been playing catch-up with my stories ever since. Of course, I'm also the author; I automatically hate everything that I write, so as long as you enjoy it, that's all that matters to me.**

**Thank you to** Esha Napoleon, D Torres, alethea293, Jemima Flute, miles89 **and **extremist **for reviewing the last chapter! You...are...AWESOME!

* * *

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Chapter 10: Sweet Dreams

Melina lurched unsteadily to one side, grabbing onto the wall for support. Her brain felt like it was flipping end over end inside her skull, and the people around her had been reduced to little more than moving smears of color in her vision. No one took notice of her. On Raw, she might be the Dominant Diva, but here, she was just another drunk pretty girl. If anyone from the roster saw her now, there was a good chance she'd never live it down.

But the paparazzi princess didn't care. That was the great thing about being drunk—you could make a complete ass out of yourself and not give a damn. You could say whatever popped into your head without worrying about the consequences.

You could make out with your nemesis—and enjoy it.

Melina closed her eyes, pressing her cheek against the wall. She had enough self-awareness to know that she was pretty much obliterated by now—_everything_ seemed surreal at this point—but for some reason, one moment stood out in her mind with absolute and total clarity: the moment she had kissed Jeff Hardy back. Part of her was appalled—even tequila couldn't banish her old habitual arrogance—but another part of her…was _exhilarated_.

She had never felt this way before, not when MNM had won their first tag team championships, not even when Johnny had won the Intercontinental Championship. This feeling welling up inside her—like electricity dancing across her skin—she'd never even known that she could experience sensations like this…and she hadn't realized until now how much she craved it.

And all it had taken was one kiss to awaken this need inside her. One kiss—not from her boyfriend…but from his worst enemy.

The Dominant Diva slowly opened her eyes, her full lips curving upwards into a satisfied smile. Wouldn't it be funny if she walked in on Johnny right now, standing there silently while he and that stripper fumbled for their clothes? Would it be hilarious if, after listening to her boyfriend's laundry list of frantic excuses, she calmly informed him that—while he was busy banging that ECW bimbo—she had been sucking face with Jeff Hardy?

The thought was tempting—too tempting to resist—and any rational deterrents her mind might have possessed had been long since dulled by alcohol. Moving carefully, using the wall for support, the paparazzi princess made her way to the VIP area. Pausing for a second to fix her hair—even while intoxicated, old habits died hard—she ripped the curtain back with a flourish, the perfect remark ready on her lips—

The space was empty.

Melina frowned, bewildered. The sight of the vacant VIP area was so _not_ what she was expecting that for a moment or two, she literally didn't know what to think. Gradually, however, comprehension kicked in, and the Dominant Diva's smirk faded as she realized that _Johnny had left her behind_.

First, her boyfriend had betrayed her. Now, he had abandoned her. Yes, this truly was one _hell_ of an evening.

Melina stumbled into the space, her gait growing less steady with each step. With one hand, she reached up to touch her lips. She knew that she should be furious, devastated, _something_—but for some reason, all she could think about was the feeling of Jeff's lips moving over hers, the sensation of his hands on her face, her neck.

All she could think about was—why wouldn't this room stop spinning?

The last thing Melina remembered before she passed out was the floor rushing up to meet her—and the look of longing she had seen in Jeff Hardy's eyes.

* * *

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior shoved his hands into his pockets, firmly telling himself that this was _it_; that after this, he would head back to the hotel. He knew that he was probably lying to himself; this was his sixth lap around the nightclub. Five times, he had gotten to the exit with every intention of leaving, and each time, something, some inner part of him, kept him from doing so. It was like he had forgotten something, although a thorough check of his person told him that all of his necessary items—wallet, cell phone, etc.—were safe and secure.

So what, then? What was he forgetting? What was compelling him to hang around this place; a place that, after a few hours, was starting to grate on his nerves?

That was easy; the Charismatic Enigma knew the answer to that question, even if he didn't want to accept it. He was looking for Melina. _That_ was the reason he was still here, _that _was the reason he kept wandering around here like a tool. He was still chasing after the paparazzi princess, even though she had made it pretty clear that she wanted nothing more to do with him.

Had she, though? The way her body had leaned into his, and the way she kissed him back…

_No_. Melina was drunk, that's all. Once the Dominant Diva sobered up—if she even remembered anything about this night—she would be mad as hell. She would spin the story to her boyfriend, making Jeff look like a sex-crazed maniac, and then the Rainbow-Haired Warrior could expect a whole shitload of grief from that pretty-boy asshole. And if Maria found out—

He needed to walk away from this one. If he placed any value at all on either his well-being or his social standing, then he needed to leave this one alone and forget that it ever happened.

But instead of turning around, instead of leaving, the Charismatic Enigma kept moving forward, unable to forget the genuine misery in Melina's dark eyes…

He had passed by a curtained alcove—one which no doubt housed a VIP area where a "loser" like him was not welcome—when he paused. It was hard to hear _anything_ above the conversation and the ceaseless throb of techno music, but he was certain that he had heard a muffled THUMP, as though something heavy had landed on the floor.

Jeff looked out at the other club-goers. No one else seemed to have heard anything amiss; they were too busy pursuing their goals of sex and booze. He turned back toward the curtain. Whatever was happening back there was none of his business—if anything, he was just searching for yet another excuse not to leave. But somehow, that logic wasn't enough to prevent the Rainbow-Haired Warrior from striding to the curtain, or from pulling it back without so much as a prepared excuse.

At first, all he saw was two legs, sheathed in a pair of black stiletto boots. His gaze traveled upward, taking in the short black skirt, the purple top, but it wasn't until he saw the mane of red-brown hair that he realized who he was looked at.

Once again, and against his better judgment, he was in the presence of the paparazzi princess. A clearly _passed-out_ princess.

For a moment, Jeff was tempted to just leave her there for someone else to find. After all, what had the Dominant Diva ever done for _him_? But in the next instant, an involuntary surge of empathy washed away that impulse. The Charismatic Enigma had been trashed on a fair number of occasions—more than he'd care to admit—and the majority of them hadn't ended well. If there was anything that past experience had taught him, it was that _no one_ deserved to be left passed out on the floor—not even a shrew like Melina.

Jeff stepped cautiously into the VIP area, his green irises scanning left and right in search of Nitro. However, he soon realized just how ridiculous his apprehension was. If Johnny Nitro _was_ here, the last thing he would do was leave his girlfriend lying face-down on the floor.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior approached the unconscious Diva, kneeling down and gently shaking her shoulder. "Princess?" No response. Jeff tried again. "Princess?" Still no response. This time, the younger Hardy brother shook harder, raising his voice a little. "_Melina_!"

At this, the Dominant Diva groaned, turning her head to the side and peering at the Charismatic Enigma through half-closed lids. "Who…" she slurred. "Who are you?"

Jeff felt the corner of his mouth twist up in a half- smile. "Don't you remember, princess? It's me—the washed-up loser." Melina didn't respond to his quip; only turned her face back toward the floor. For a few seconds, she didn't move. Then, Jeff saw her arms trembling with effort and realized she was trying to push herself up. "Whoa, easy now!" he exclaimed. Quickly, he took hold of her shoulders, carefully lifting the paparazzi princess up into a sitting position.

Jeff put one hand on her back to steady her, peering into her face. "What're you still doing here, princess?" He cast another look around the VIP area, even though it was evident by now that he and Melina were its only occupants. "Where's that dick boyfriend of yours?"

"Johnny?" Melina let out a strangled sound that might have been a laugh. She let her head sag back, her brown eyes staring off at nothing. "Johnny—he left me."

The tone in which she uttered those last three words was so piteous that Jeff felt another wave of empathy for her. He gritted his teeth, cursing Nitro under his breath. There were dick moves, and then there were _dick moves_, and then there was this. Jeff had done some pretty shitty things in his life, but never had he left his girlfriend passed out at a club by herself where any random stranger could take advantage of her.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior studied the Dominant Diva for a few seconds. Melina's normally olive skin was a sickly shade of greenish-white, and her dark eyes were glazed and unresponsive. It was pretty clear what Jeff had to do. He couldn't leave her here, obviously, and there was no way in hell he was tracking down that douchebag Nitro.

So that left one other option—one which he was surely going to regret.

The Charismatic Enigma sighed, taking hold of one of Melina's limp arms and draping it across his shoulders. With great care, he pulled her to her feet, wrapping one arm around her waist to steady her. "Come on, princess," he replied. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

Melina was out of it; it took a monumental effort just to get her to put one foot in front of the other. She didn't say anything as Jeff led her outside into the crisp autumn night, or when he succeeded in hailing a taxi, or when he carefully maneuvered her into the vehicle's back seat.

The cabbie, a heavyset man in his late fifties who bore a slight resemblance to Howard Finkel, leered at the drunken Diva from behind the protective Plexiglass. "Cute girl," he remarked. "She your girlfriend?"

Jeff, preoccupied with adjusting Melina's body so that she was safely ensconced in the seat, shot a glare at the older man. "_No_." he snapped.

For a second, the cabbie looked crestfallen, before his face lit up in an expression of lascivious comprehension. "Ohhh…_I get it_…" He flashed a toothy smile at the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. "You don't need to explain; I see how it is."

_No, I'm pretty sure that you DON'T…_Jeff wanted to retort, but he kept silent. The cabbie could believe whatever the hell he wanted to believe; right now, Jeff's biggest concern was making sure Melina got back to the hotel in one piece.

The cab driver put the car in drive, easing the vehicle out into traffic. As soon as the cab lurched to life, Melina's eyes flew open, and she clamped her hand over her mouth. "Oh God!" the paparazzi princess wailed, her normally strident voice muffled. "I'm gonna puke!"

Instantly, Jeff dived across the seat to the window crank, turning it as rapidly as the mechanism would allow. The cabbie shot a concerned glance over his shoulder. "Hey!" he exclaimed. "That chick better not puke in my cab!"

"Why do you think I'm rolling the window down?" Jeff shot back. Luckily, the window descended all the way, filling the car with cold clean air. Jeff gently turned Melina toward the window. "Come on, princess," he urged. "Breathe—it'll make you feel better."

For once, the Dominant Diva didn't argue, and instead, took several deep breaths. She gradually removed her hand from her mouth, hugging herself with both arms. "Cold," she whispered, and when she turned back toward Jeff, the younger Hardy brother could see that her full lips were trembling. "So cold…"

Jeff didn't even think; he just stripped off his jacket, draping it over Melina's bare shoulders and arms. As he did so, the paparazzi princess leaned against him like dead weight, her head resting against his chest. For a second or two, Jeff froze, unsure of how to react.

But just like every other moment of hesitation, this one, too, passed, and he wrapped his arms around her slender frame, holding her tight against him as the cab sped toward the hotel.

* * *

As soon as Jeff opened up the door to his hotel room, Melina bolted inside, shrugging his jacket off her shoulders in the process. Soon after, the younger Hardy brother heard retching sounds, and was glad that he'd decided to leave the bathroom light on before he left.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior stepped into the bathroom. Sure enough, Melina was hunched over the toilet, puking her guts out. Jeff felt a small sympathetic smile touch his lips. He walked over to the sink, grabbing a glass and filling it up with cold tap water.

Kneeling down beside the Dominant Diva, Jeff pulled back her long reddish-brown curls, keeping them out of her face. Securing her hair in one hand, he used the other to gently rub her back, all the while murmuring soothingly to her. "There we go, princess, that's it. Believe me, you're gonna feel a hell of a lot better when this is over."

Eventually, Melina's convulsions stopped, and the paparazzi princess slowly sat back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Jeff reached over, taking hold of the lever and flushing the toilet for her. "There now," he murmured. "It's all right, it's all right—"

The Dominant Diva glanced over at him. Her face was wet with tears; her eye makeup had run down her cheeks. "I'm—" she began, then stopped. After a few seconds, she tried again. "I'm…_sorry_—"

"Don't apologize to me, princess," Jeff interrupted gently. "Believe me, it happens to the best of us." He held out the water glass, waiting until she had both hands around it before letting go. "Here, drink some of that; you'll feel better."

Immediately, Melina raised the glass to her lips, drinking the water in savage greedy gulps. Jeff instantly grabbed the glass, pulling it away from her. "Hey!" he admonished. "Not so fast, okay?" He handed her the glass once more. "Sip it slowly—otherwise, it's gonna come right back up." The paparazzi princess reluctantly obliged, sipping the water. While she drank, Jeff stood back up, moistening a washcloth in the sink. Kneeling back down, he used the damp cloth to wipe the makeup off her face. Her thirst sated, Melina lowered the glass, handing it obediently back to Jeff.

The Charismatic Enigma sat back on his haunches, studying her face. Slumped against the toilet, hair tousled, no makeup—and yet, she was still beautiful. If anything, she was even _more_ beautiful than the bewitching Diva at Johnny Nitro's side. He was seeing—_really seeing_—her face for the first time, without the usual façades and barriers she had erected around herself.

_You don't know me!_...Wasn't that what she had screamed at him? Maybe she was right; maybe he didn't.

Maybe no one did.

Jeff shook his head briskly, forcing himself back to the present. He looked hard at the Dominant Diva. "You feeling better?" This question earned him a nod. Jeff glanced at the doorway, and then back at her. "You want to lie down?" Another nod. "Can you get there without my help?"

This time, his query earned him a reluctant head shake. Jeff sighed again, and then extended his arms to Melina. "Here—grab onto my neck." The paparazzi princess obliged, and Jeff lifted her easily off the tile floor, carrying her through the bathroom doorway and out into the main room. She was light—she seemed to weigh almost nothing—and Jeff could feel her skin burning through the thin fabric of her clothes.

Moving over to the bed, he laid her down on the coverlet, sitting next to her. Taking hold of one of her feet, he pulled it into his lap, unzipping her stiletto boot.

At this, Melina struggled, showing her first signs of resistance. "What—what're you doing?" she asked, her voice still slightly slurred.

Jeff turned his head, shooting her a grin. "Don't worry, princess," the Rainbow-Haired Warrior assured her. "This is the only clothing of yours that's coming off tonight." He unzipped the first boot and moved onto the second. "Figured your feet would thank me in the morning." Once the second boot was off, Jeff peeled back the comforter and sheets. He lifted Melina onto the top sheet, making sure her head fell comfortably onto the pillow, before pulling the covers up to her chest.

He had just reached over to switch off the light when he felt Melina's hand take hold of his. "Jeff?" the Dominant Diva whispered. Her voice was so weak, so unsure, so unlike Melina that for a second, the younger Hardy brother didn't recognize it. Slowly, he looked down at her.

Melina stared up at him with a countenance that was more confused than anything else. "Why—" She struggled to get the words out. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

Jeff didn't answer at first, but instead looked down at Melina's hand covering his. Impulsively, he slipped his fingers through hers, giving her hand a quick squeeze. "I don't know," he admitted, and it was the truth. He honestly didn't know why he had taken the time to care—Lord knows Melina had never given him a reason.

"Your eyes…" Melina's voice was so soft that he almost didn't hear it. She must be falling asleep by now. Jeff looked up, fixing his gaze on her face. The paparazzi princess's brown irises. "Your eyes…" she repeated, more insistently this time. Down at his side, the Charismatic Enigma felt Melina's fingers entwine even tighter with his, felt her squeeze his hand in return. "…all I see…anymore…"

With that, Melina's eyes closed, her breathing becoming deep and regular. Her hand, which had gripped his so tightly, now relaxed in sleep.

Jeff watched her for several long seconds. Right now, she was truly at her most beautiful. In sleep, everything that upset her, everything about her that he hated—none of that was visible. Only this peaceful, almost angelic countenance.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior carefully disentangled his hand from hers, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her forehead—the last kiss he would probably ever give her.

"Sweet dreams, princess,"


	11. Chapter 11: The Morning After

**A/N: OMG, NEW CHAPTER! Okay, first off, in my defense, I was trying to finish a 108-page screenplay and shoot a 9-minute film this semester, and unfortunately, both of those things took precedence to this story. But now, the semester is OVER, and what better way to kick it off than with a new chapter? To all of those who have read, reviewed, or favorited, you are awesome! Hopefully, you will enjoy this one!**

**Thank you to **Esha Napoleon, alethea293, extremist, D Torres, miles89, LetNys, **and **Syco's Path** for reviewing the last chapter! Love yas!

* * *

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Chapter 11: The Morning After

The first thing Melina was aware of as she drifted back to consciousness was a pounding headache and the sour aftertaste of alcohol on her tongue.

The paparazzi princess moaned softly, rolling over onto her side. She could feel the pale radiance of daylight pressing against her eyelids, but kept them tightly closed, afraid that if she opened them, the jackhammer going nonstop inside her head would split her skull apart.

She reached out with one arm, groping blindly for Johnny, praying that he was at least a little less hungover than she was, that he was not in the bathroom praying to the porcelain god. More than anything, she needed Johnny to help her make sense of the previous evening—because, quite frankly, she couldn't remember any of it. She couldn't even remember how she'd gotten back to her hotel room last night. The Dominant Diva could recall going to the club, having a few drinks, gloating about Johnny's victory at Unforgiven…but beyond that, everything else seemed to have been swallowed up by a black hole; a vast void that had engulfed a selective chunk of her memories, leaving her with no clues as to what had transpired last night.

Instead of her boyfriend, however, Melina's fingers encountered only empty air and the cool textured surface of the bedspread. The paparazzi princess rolled onto her back, making a soft pitiful noise in the back of her throat. All right, no Johnny. Maybe he was out getting coffee or something. In spite of her discomfort, Melina felt a small smile touch her face. Yeah…that was it: Johnny had woken up, slipped out quietly so he wouldn't wake her, and any minute now, he would reenter this room with two steaming cups of fragrant, caffeine-infused brew.

And if _that_ was the case—then at the very least, she could drag her carcass out of bed and make some kind of an effort to look presentable.

Slowly, so as not to exacerbate her headache, the Dominant Diva sat up, locking her hands together and stretching her arms up over her head. She rubbed her eyes, lifting her lids open a crack and peering sleepily around the room. The pain in her head had ratcheted up several notches and the taste in her mouth was disgusting, but it was nothing that a handful of Advil and a toothbrush couldn't cure—

Like a needle scratching the surface of a vinyl record, Melina's thoughts abruptly screeched to a halt, her eyes growing wide as she stared at the figure in the corner.

Jeff was curled up in one of the hotel room's armchair, his arms crossed over his chest, his feet propped up on the radiator. His head lolled to one side as he slept, his mouth was hanging open—and to top it all off, he was drooling.

For a few seconds, Melina couldn't move, couldn't do anything except blink in utter shock. Gradually, her paralysis gave way, and she reached up, digging her fingernails into her upper arm. The sharp pain that greeted her told her more than words could that this was _no dream_, that this was _really happening_, and the paparazzi princess shrieked, grabbing the covers and yanking them up to her chin.

It was as though a gun had gone off. Jeff sat bolt upright, reflexively wiping the saliva from his chin with one hand, as he struggled to orient himself. "Wha? Whazzgoingon?" As he struggled to unfold himself, the Charismatic Enigma lost his balance and slid off the chair, landing on his ass with a muffled THUMP.

Melina continued to scream, the covers still clutched to her chest. Jeff looked up at her, his sleepy bewilderment eventually fading, with cynical comprehension taking its place. A wry smile touched the corners of his mouth. "Oh…it's you." The Rainbow-Haired Warrior yawned. "Mornin', princess."

"What are you doing here?" the paparazzi princess shrieked. "How did you get in here?" With one hand, she jabbed her index finger in the direction of the door. "Get out! Get the _hell_ out!"

Jeff looked unfazed by her near-hysteria. Instead of obeying her directive, he leaned back against the armchair, pushing his multi-hued hair out of his face. "Hate to give you a news flash this early in the morning, princess," the younger Hardy brother replied, his last words almost swallowed up by another enormous yawn. "But, uh…this…is _my_ room."

Melina was already opening her mouth to utter a scathing remark to the contrary, when she suddenly realized that Jeff was _right_. The wallpaper, the carpet, the drapes—all were different. The bed wasn't even facing the same direction. And as for luggage—the only sign of the room's occupancy was a battered suitcase propped against the far wall, one which certainly did _not_ belong to either her or Johnny.

The Dominant Diva snapped her mouth shut, tilting her chin up haughtily and averting her gaze from Jeff's. Okay, so she was in Jeff Hardy's hotel room—what the hell was she doing there?

An icy feeling of dread gripped her stomach, and Melina swallowed hard. No…surely not… She had been _drunk_, but she hadn't been _that drunk_…had she?

Jeff watched her discomfort with amusement, chuckling. "To answer your next question, princess—no, we didn't." The Rainbow-Haired Warrior slowly got to his feet, wincing. "Believe me—both of us would have to be _wasted_ for _that_ to happen." Pressing one hand to the small of his back, he gingerly walked toward the bathroom, his body clearly suffering the effects of last night's match.

As subtly as she dared, Melina made a quick check of her person. All of her clothes were still in place; she was even still wearing her jewelry. The only thing missing was her boots, and another swift glance around the room showed her that they were sitting a few feet away, neatly arranged side by side.

The paparazzi princess looked down at her lap, gradually releasing her hold on the covers. She knew that she should be feeling gratitude right about now, or at least some small measure of appreciation for what the younger Hardy brother had done for her. But all Melina felt was a dull sick anger, the source of which she could not identify.

Maybe it was the fact that she was hung-over. Or maybe it had something to do with waking up with no memory of the previous night, in the hotel room of the one man she truly despised. Either way, Melina Perez was possessed by a blank rage, a dull wrath that sought a target.

And right now, the only target available was Jeff Hardy.

The Dominant Diva's dark eyes narrowed, her lips drawing back from her teeth. "You sick _freak_," she spat. "I don't know what the _hell_ you're on, but—"

"How about a thank-you, huh, princess?" the Charismatic Enigma interjected, rolling his eyes. He shot a glance over his shoulder at the fuming Diva. "Because—sorry to burst your bubble here—but watching you puke your guts out isn't exactly my idea of a fun evening." Jeff sighed, reaching up to massage his temples with one hand. "Look, princess, give me a break, okay? It's early, you're screaming, and I haven't had my coffee yet, so if you could give me five min—"

But the paparazzi princess had stopped listening. "You're disgusting," Melina shot back. She crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her chin up a little further. As Jeff reached the doorway of the bathroom, she added, her tone sweetly malicious: "Just _wait_ until _Johnny_ hears about this—"

At this, Jeff froze. Melina couldn't see his face, but down at his side, she saw his hand clench into a fist. Without warning, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior spun around, his eyes locking with hers. His green irises were bright with anger.

The Dominant Diva felt her rage abruptly drain away, replaced by the first faint stirrings of trepidation. She had made him mad; this time, she had _really_ made him mad—and now, he was going to make her pay for it.

She had no way of knowing that it was her own words thundering in the younger Hardy brother's ears, drowning out everything else; words that she had uttered only hours before:

_Johnny…he left me…_

When Jeff spoke again, his voice was low and dangerous, with none of its previous scornful amusement. "All right, princess. You win. You're right—I'm a disgusting freak, a burn-out, a _loser_. But you know what? No one's forcing you to be here. So here's the door—" The Charismatic Enigma stormed to the main door, throwing it open and gesturing out at the hallway before turning his furious gaze back on the paparazzi princess. "—don't let it hit you on the ass on the way out."

For a few seconds, Melina could only sit there in shock, still stunned by the sudden outpouring of fury from the younger Hardy brother. But soon the old habitual arrogance kicked back in, and the Dominant Diva pressed her lips together in a thin line. "_Fine_!" she snapped, throwing back the covers and getting to her feet. Once she was upright, the world swam in front of her briefly, threatening to send her tumbling right back down to the floor. But the paparazzi princess gritted her teeth and hung on, refusing to relinquish herself to the sensation of vertigo.

After all…that was probably what had gotten her in trouble last night.

Snatching her boots off the floor, Melina stormed toward the open door, tossing her red-brown curls over her shoulder. "Like I'd want to spend another _second_ around you!" she added nastily.

Just as she stepped out into the hallway, Jeff spoke once more. His voice was soft, almost inaudible, but full of tightly controlled emotion. "By the way—when you're done tattling to your boyfriend, princess—maybe you can ask him why he left you passed out in a nightclub in the first place."

Melina looked back; the Charismatic Enigma had just enough time to see her haughty countenance falter in stunned surprise before he slammed the door in her face.

Jeff stomped into the bathroom, tearing off his t-shirt and wrenching the faucet on. As cold water tumbled into the sink basin, he caught its flow in his cupped hands, splashing it onto his face. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior repeated this action a second time, then a third, before finally shutting the water off and staring at his reflection in the mirror.

He had known that he would regret this—and sure enough, Melina had proven him right. All of the trouble he had gone to last night, all his attempts to be nice, to be a good fucking Samaritan—why had he even bothered, when he had known from the start how it would end?

What had he been expecting; that Melina would open her eyes and smile at him? That she would wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him like she had the night before—

The younger Hardy brother punched the mirror, not hard enough to break it, but with enough force to bruise his knuckles. "Bitch," Jeff muttered under his breath. "Fucking bitch—"

There was a knock at the door.

The sound was so soft and tentative that for a moment, the Charismatic Enigma wondered if he had imagined it. But then it came again, more forceful this time. Jeff grabbed a nearby towel, wiping the excess water from his face as he tried to block out the sound of the knocking. But as the rapping persisted, growing louder and louder each time, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior eventually lost patience and stormed out of the bathroom, flinging open the main door. "_What_?" he growled.

Melina stumbled forward, the momentum of the door opening knocking her off-balance. She almost collided with the younger Hardy brother, catching herself only at the very last second. The Dominant Diva froze, her dark eyes locked onto Jeff's upper body _sans_ shirt, at the branch-like tattoo running the length of his right arm. Her gaze slowly traveled upward until it met his, and for an instant, something passed between them—something that, for once, was not full of hate.

The Charismatic Enigma was the first one to break it, however. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the door frame and glaring at the Raw Diva. "_Well_?" he drawled, his voice filled with annoyance. "What do you want _now_?"

Melina didn't seem to hear him at first. A second or two elapsed before she finally blinked and shook her head, returning to the present. The paparazzi princess looked down, trailing the toe of her bare foot (she still hadn't donned her stilettos) across the patterned surface of the carpet. "Can I—" Her voice was hesitant, reluctant; for a second, Jeff was transported back to the previous night, to the way she had sounded when she gripped his hand. Melina crossed her arms over her chest, attempting to look nonchalant and failing miserably. She lifted her chin, almost but not quite meeting his eyes, swallowing hard as she steeled herself. "Can I…get…a ride?"

The laugh burst out of Jeff, harsh and bitter and utterly devoid of amusement. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, his mouth curving up in a humorless grin. "You are some piece of work, you know that?" he remarked to no one in particular. The younger Hardy brother lowered his gaze, meeting Melina's eyes once again. "Give me one, _one_ good reason why I should do _anything _for you."

Silence greeted his query. Jeff sighed, and started to swing the door closed. Just as the tumbler was about to click into place, he heard Melina's voice, softer and even more tentative. "Because…I'm sorry."

The Charismatic Enigma paused, then slowly pulled the door back open, staring hard at the Dominant Diva. "What was that, princess?" he asked, cupping his hand to his ear, his voice holding only the faintest note of sarcasm. "Speak up; I didn't quite catch it."

Irritation flashed in Melina's brown eyes, and from the way she bit her lip, she was obviously holding back a vicious retort. But instead of giving in to her exasperation, the paparazzi princess swallowed hard, spitting out her words in a tone of grudging dislike: "I _said_…I'm s…s…_sorry_." Her dark irises locked onto Jeff's green ones, and she let out her breath in an impatient huff. "Now…can I _please _get a ride?"

For a moment, there was no reply, no indication that the Rainbow-Haired Warrior had even heard her request. Then, the younger Hardy brother slowly pushed his body off the door frame, shoving his hands into his back pockets. His green gaze swept over Melina, and the Dominant Diva felt her cheeks burn.

"Give me five minutes, princess."

* * *

Jeff twisted the steering wheel to the left, pulling the car up in front of the main entrance of Melina's hotel. He put the vehicle in "Park", glancing over at his passenger.

Melina's high-heeled boots were back on her feet, and her head was bowed, her red-brown tresses obscuring her face. She hadn't uttered one word during the ride over, but as soon as the car's movement ceased, the Dominant Diva stirred, turning and reaching for the door handle. "Thanks…" she murmured, sounding distracted.

The door lock snapped down, preventing her exit. Melina furiously looked over at Jeff, who was just removing his hand from the automatic lock button. "_Well_?" the paparazzi princess demanded. She combed her hair back from her face, glaring at the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. "What is it _now_, Hardy?"

Jeff didn't look at her; only stared straight ahead at the sparse landscaping arrangement of trees and bushes. "No reason, princess," he remarked. He looked over at her, his emerald irises as uncomfortably piercing as a laser. "Just wondering if this boyfriend of yours is really worth it."

Melina felt a laugh escape her throat. "What's the matter, Hardy?" the Dominant Diva shot back. "Jealous?"

Something about the question, about the way she phrased it, sent a strange shiver up her spine, and the paparazzi princess rushed on before she could dwell on what it meant. "Look, Jeff—" Had she really just used his first name? No matter; no time to think about that right now. "—let me make something clear to you: just because you picked me up off the floor last night doesn't mean that things are different between us. I was _drunk_; I could have hit on the _Pope_ and not cared. So don't start getting ideas and thinking that _this_—" She gestured between the two of them. "—means something, because it _doesn't_. I don't like you, you don't like me—and that is _never_ going to change."

Melina paused to take a breath. "And as for Johnny…you don't even _know_ him—"

"You're right, princess," Jeff interrupted. "I don't." His focus was still on her, and even though his eyes never traveled any lower than her face, there was something penetrating about his gaze. "But I'm starting to think that maybe _you _don't, either."

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment. For a second, Melina had the sensation that she was leaning closer to the Charismatic Enigma, that she was arching her body up to meet his—and then Jeff abruptly turned away, and the moment, whatever it was, was gone.

Without looking at her, Jeff reached over, pressing the button. The lock snapped up. "See you in the ring," the younger Hardy brother whispered, but whether he was talking to her or himself, the paparazzi princess wasn't sure.

Next to him, Jeff heard Melina sigh, followed by a muttered: "Whatever…" He didn't look over, didn't move, as the passenger door opened and the Dominant Diva exited, slamming the door shut behind her. It wasn't until the click of her boot heels faded into nothingness that the Rainbow-Haired Warrior let out his breath in a long sigh, leaning down to rest his head on the steering wheel.

He hated her. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he had hated a woman with such a fiery intensity.

And yet…

And yet, the whole time, he had wanted to kiss her. He had wanted to kiss her so bad that it _hurt_.

Jeff's cell phone went off, the vibration digging into his hip and almost causing him to hit his head on the roof of the car. The Charismatic Enigma quickly dug the electronic device out of his pocket, flipping it open and holding it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Jeff?" Even the usual cell phone distortion couldn't disguise the adorable bubbly quality of Maria's voice. The younger Hardy brother leaned back in his seat, his eyes drifting closed.

"Hey, 'Ria? What's up?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Jeff could almost picture Raw's backstage reporter biting her lip. "Nothing…" the Raw Diva admitted. "Except…we agreed last night that we were going to carpool together to Montreal—and since I'm all ready to go, I'm just wondering…where _are_ you?"

Jeff smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand, cursing silently. _Shit_. In all the drama concerning Melina, he had completely forgotten about the plans he had made with Maria. _His girlfriend_. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior kicked the side of the door, mouthing _Shit Shit Shit._

"Jeff?" Now Maria's voice had taken on a note of concern. "Is…is everything all right over there?"

"Huh?" Jeff blurted out. "No, everything's fine. I just, uh…" His eyes scanned his surroundings, looking for something, _anything_, to spin into an excuse. At the main entrance, a pair of businessmen emerged, white cardboard coffee cups in hand. Jeff's green irises honed in on the beverage containers. "I was just getting coffee, and lost track of time. I'll be there in fifteen—" He glanced at his watch, wincing at how late in the morning it was. "—no, make that twenty minutes, okay?"

"No worries," the backstage reporter chirped. "But…since you're at the coffee place, could you bring me some, too?"

Jeff chuckled, hoping to God that it sounded normal and not forced in any way. "Sure thing, babe," he replied. "See you in a bit."

He barely heard Maria's breathy "Bye, Jeff," as he snapped the phone closed, his ears were reverberating with the sound of another voice.

Melina's voice:

_Your eyes…_

Her fingers entwined through his…

_All I see…_

Her lips pressed against his, kissing him back…

_Anymore…_

Jeff abruptly punched the steering, accidentally hitting the horn in the process. "It didn't mean anything!" he exclaimed to the empty car. "She was drunk, I was stupid—it didn't…it didn't mean anything…"

His voice trailed off, and the Rainbow-Haired Warrior sagged forward, resting his forehead on the rim of the steering wheel. As he did so, he heard a voice, that annoying inner voice, the one that sounded suspiciously like Matt, offer one last retort before skittering back out of reach into his subconscious.

_Liar…

* * *

_

Melina took a deep breath, straightening up and squaring her shoulders back. She was as presentable as she could hope to be, considering the circumstances, but that didn't make what she was about to do any easier.

In a few seconds, she was going to look her boyfriend in the eye—and lie to his face.

Part of her—the part of her that pretty much dominated her life now—was livid, demanding to know why she didn't just tell Johnny the truth. Melina had to admit that the idea was tempting. After all, Jeff Hardy had been a pain in her ass for the past month; telling Johnny about this latest occurrence would pretty much guarantee the Charismatic Enigma a much-deserved ass-kicking.

And yet…she couldn't bring herself to do it. Not just because of the unexpected kindness Jeff had shown her—although that certainly was a factor. No…because ever since the Rainbow-Haired Warrior had entered her life, her relationship with Johnny had become…not exactly rocky…but _unsteady_, to say the least. And as much as her boyfriend loathed and despised Jeff Hardy—telling him that she had woken up in the Charismatic Enigma's bed would be stretching the limits of his tolerance.

Melina looked heavenward, uttering a silent prayer. Johnny was the one person she could trust—the _only_ person she could trust –and she was about to lie to him.

For a second, an instance, there was a disturbance in the void, as the dark veils shrouding the previous night parted, affording her a glimpse of the events they concealed. But the view was unclear, and the blackness slammed back into place with alarming swiftly, leaving her with only a vague feeling of uncertainty and an even vaguer one of déjà vu.

The Dominant Diva swallowed hard, balling her hand into a fist and rapping sharply on the door with her knuckles. For a few seconds, there was nothing. Melina frowned, leaning closer until her ear was pressed against the wood.

She could hear Johnny from within the room. His voice was faint; he sounded like he was on the phone with someone. "—had a really great time last night—"

Melina rapped again, harder this time. On the other side, she heard Johnny say: "—hang on; there's someone at the door. I'll call you later, okay?" Soft footsteps neared the door, and the paparazzi princess quickly moved back, slapping a suitably pitiful expression on her face as it swung open.

Johnny was already dressed, clad in a white button-up shirt and designer jeans. For a moment, he stared at her with surprise, but then in the next instant, the surprise gave way to delight and concern, and he scooped her into his arms, pulling her into the room and shutting the door behind them. "Mel? Oh my God, I was so worried!"

The room looked like an explosion had hit it: clothes on the floor, bed unmade. It was toward this bed that Johnny pulled Melina, still babbling away: "I thought you left, so I came here to look for you, but you weren't here, so I went back. I left you, like, fifty messages—"

Melina struggled slightly, attempting to extricate herself from her boyfriend's embrace. "I left my phone here, remember?" For some reason, her migraine had increased tenfold, and there was something smothering about Johnny's frantic attentiveness.

Smothering…and just a teeny bit false.

Johnny finally pulled back, allowing her an opportunity to breathe. "So…where were you?" he asked. All the concern in the world couldn't mask the blatant curiosity in his tone.

Luckily, Melina had prepared for this; had been preparing since the drive over here. She lifted her head up, meeting her boyfriend's gaze without flinching. "Victoria let me crash with her and Torrie." That was a lie; the Vicious Vixen hated her just like everyone else. Melina shrugged, trying to look nonchalant and sheepish at the same time. "I was _really_ drunk last night—I don't remember…_anything_."

For a heartbeat, something flashed across the Intercontinental Champion's face—was it…_guilt_? But then Johnny abruptly looked away, clearing his throat. "Well, baby, the important thing is that you're here." He took hold of her hands, clasping them in both of his. "You're here, we're together…and I'm still the Intercontinental Champion. That's all that matters."

Still holding her hands, he gently pushed her down into a sitting position on the bed. "Now," Her boyfriend's tone had become uncomfortably businesslike. "You just sit down here—and I'll get you some water, okay?" Reaching over, he trailed the tips of his fingers along the curve of her cheek before turning away, walking toward the bathroom.

Melina breathed a sigh of relief. Johnny had bought the lie. But then again…acting was what she was good at, wasn't it? Making everyone believe one thing, while inside, she believed another?

The paparazzi princess leaned back, resting her weight on the heels of her hands, stretching her legs out in front of her. As she did so, her heel caught on something, and the Dominant Diva bent over, peering down to investigate.

A lacy pink thong was caught on the spike heel of her boot. Melina's brown eyes grew wide. Slowly, she disentangled her boot from the undergarment, studying it with a kind of morbid curiosity.

She had only been in this room twice; once when they'd checked in and once right before they'd gone to the club. Both times, she hadn't taken off so much as an earring in this room. Besides…she knew with a sense of absolute and dreadful certainty that this thong did not belong to her.

And if it didn't belong to her, that meant that—

Melina sat up abruptly, the veil covering last night giving way once again, this time allowing a voice—_Johnny's voice_—to filter through…

_So…Kelly…how'd you feel about giving the Intercontinental Champ a private show?..._

And another voice—this one belonging to Jeff Hardy…

_I'm starting to think that maybe YOU don't, either…_

With a low gasp, the paparazzi princess kicked the scrap of lace and elastic back under the bed. She clenched her hand into a fist, her nails digging into her palm. Her heart was pounding in her chest, so fast she was sure she was going to have a stroke. But Melina's face didn't move, didn't change; it remained as icily pristine as before.

After all, she was the Dominant Diva. She didn't care. She didn't feel. She didn't have a heart.

A big tear rolled down Melina's cheek, hesitating at her chin before falling and plopping silently onto the carpet.


	12. Chapter 12: What's Wrong With Me?

**A/N: Wow, what's it been; like, forever since I last updated? I banged out this chapter before my screenwriting class, and while it's a little short, I still hope you enjoy it. I proofread it super-fast, so if there are any errors, I apologize in advance. For everyone who's continued to review, read, and favorite in the midst of my extreme procrastination, you are AWESOME!**

**Thank you to **LetNys, Esha Napoleon, xXx A Beautiful Nightmare xXx, m-yaz, i luv hardy, TheEnglishRejects, **and **extremist **for reviewing the last chapter. Love yas!

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Chapter 12: What's Wrong With Me?

"_Fuck_!"

Jeff punched the wall, his knuckles connecting painfully with the cinderblock. The impact ratcheted up his arm all the way to his shoulder, sending a less-than-gentle hint to his brain that maybe he should stop before he broke something. Instead of obeying the suggestion, however, the Charismatic Enigma punched the wall a second time, then a third, all the while imagining that he was smashing Johnny Nitro's pretty-boy face into a bloody pulp...

Somewhere around the fourth or fifth punch, the fight abruptly left the Rainbow-Haired Warrior, and he sagged against the wall, sighing. Jeff had never been one to protest against the hand Fate routinely dealt him, but this was one instance where life truly wasn't fair. He had been so close, _so close_ this time, to _finally _claiming the Intercontinental title.

It had been a Six-Pack Challenge--him, Nitro, and four other Superstars--with the prize being the Intercontinental Championship. As much as Jeff disliked Jonathan Coachman, he had to admit that this bout was one instance where Raw's Executive Assistant had gotten it right. Plus, seeing the look of panicked horror on Nitro's face had been absolutely _priceless_.

The pace of the match had been fast and furious, but Jeff had eventually gathered momentum and gained the upper hand, nailing the Swanton Bomb on Chris Masters. He'd dropped to the ground, hooked Master's leg for the pin, listening to the satisfying sound of the thud of the referee's hand thudding against the mat: 1...2...

And then Nitro had appeared out of nowhere, grabbing the younger Hardy brother by the hair and throwing him bodily out of the ring. Before Jeff had even been able to comprehend what had just happened, the self-proclaimed A-lister had swooped in and stolen his pin cover, allowing him to retain his Intercontinental Championship--and leaving the Charismatic Enigma with nothing but sore limbs and wounded pride.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior swung his foot backward, kicking the wall. "_Fuck_!" he proclaimed once more through gritted teeth. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!" It wasn't fair; _it just wasn't fair_. Why did the jackasses of the world always seem to prevail, while the good guys like him seemed doomed to fail? It had happened to Matt when he had returned to Raw; now Jeff's second stint with the WWE seemed to be destined to follow the same path.

At least he wasn't constantly doing battle with his ex-girlfriend, as Matt had had to endure. No...instead he had to deal with a heartless banshee who left him feeling more conflicted than any ex-girlfriend had ever done...

Jeff leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. He was furious, an emotion that didn't often consume him, and just the very act of remaining so was starting to sap his energy. He needed to find Maria--otherwise, he was going to either injure himself or break something. Raw's backstage reporter was not only patient, but a fantastic listener as well; she would at least be able to put this match in perspective for him, if not help him decide where to go from here. She would be able to talk him down from this.

Pushing his lean frame off the wall, Jeff rolled his shoulder back a few times, trying to work out some of his post-match stiffness. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he resumed his trek down the hallway. He turned a corner--and then froze.

Standing only a few feet away, her manicured fingernails dancing rapidly over the keys of her SideKick, her attention glued to its tiny screen, was Melina. She didn't seem to notice him, but just the fact that she was _here_, in this deserted section of the backstage area, almost as though she had been waiting for him, made the younger Hardy brother instantly wary.

Keeping his eyes fixed on the stretch of hallway in front of him, Jeff strolled cautiously past Melina without granting her so much as a glance. He had just passed her, and was about to breathe a soft sigh of relief--when he heard her voice behind him, cool and arrogant and dripping with malicious sweetness:

"Too bad about your match tonight."

Jeff didn't answer, didn't even move, but down at his side, he clenched his hand into a fist, squeezing so tightly that his fingers dug into his palm. Melina went on, either unaware of the Charismatic Enigma's growing fury or else utterly delighted by it. "Five guys--and you couldn't manage to pin _any_ of them. And the best part is--" She paused, and Jeff heard the faint click of keys. Heaven forbid that Melina's gloating interfere with her texting. The Dominant Diva continued. "--you can't even blame this one on _me_...only _yourself_."

Jeff turned his head slowly, peering at Melina out of the corner of his eye. The paparazzi princess shrugged, still focused on the screen of her SideKick. "But, it's like what Johnny and I've been saying all along: you're a _loser_. You'll _always_ be a _loser_--"

Without warning, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior spun around, snatching the SideKick out of Melina's hands and throwing it aside. The Dominant Diva's jaw dropped, her smirk transforming into an expression of stunned incredulity. "What the fu--" Her words ended in a surprised shriek as Jeff grabbed her shoulders, shoving her roughly against the wall, so hard that her skull slammed against the cinderblock.

Melina gasped at the initial impact, but quickly shook away her wooziness, glaring up at the Charismatic Enigma. "Let go of me," she ordered through clenched teeth. Jeff didn't seem to hear her; he was too busy staring at her, his green irises as bright and penetrating as laser beams. There was nothing in his face; in fact, it was the total absence of _anything_ that began to spook the paparazzi princess and she struggled in his grasp. "Get your hands off me," Melina demanded, her voice holding the first faint notes of fear. "Let go of me or I'll--"

"Or you'll _what_?" the younger Hardy brother interrupted. His voice was a low mocking hiss. "Tell your _boyfriend_?" His mouth curled upward in the briefest of sneers. "That asshole with the porn star name? That _douchebag_ who's only Intercontinental Champion because you _stole_ it for him? That _dick _who left you passed out on your face last night?"

Jeff tilted his head to the side, studying the Dominant Diva with a kind of detachment. "You know what, princess?" he remarked. "Up until now, I was still willing to believe that I did the right thing last night. Even though you screamed at me, even though you tried to paint me off as some kind of creep, even though you tried to throw me out of _my own room_--I still thought that I did a good deed last night." He stared at her for a long moment. "But now, standing here, listening to you _defend_ that piece of sh--"

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior broke off, glancing away for a second before swinging his gaze back up to meet hers again. When he spoke, his voice was a terse murmur. "_I wish I would have just left you there_."

At this, the paparazzi princess flinched, as though she'd been slapped. A strangled sound escaped her, a cross between a sob and a gasp, and she felt her throat swell shut with emotion. Something about the bitterness in Jeff's voice, the brusque way in which he uttered those nine short words, cut her more deeply to the core than her discovery of the pink lacy unmentionables this morning.

The Charismatic Enigma stared at her, his hands still clamped onto her shoulders. His face was expressionless, but his _eyes_...They were smoldering with emotion, the look in them almost _pleading_. It was as though he was trying to convey something to her--or more than that, like he was trying to remind her, to refer to something that she supposedly already knew.

This was ridiculous. The younger Hardy brother knew as well as she did that she didn't remember anything from the previous night. Besides, he had already assured her that nothing had happened.

_No._

Jeff had merely told her that they hadn't slept together--he had never said that _nothing_ had happened.

_No reason...just wondering if this boyfriend of yours is really worth it..._

The light brush of fingertips against her skin...

_I don't like you..._

Hands tangled in her hair...

_You don't like me..._

Desire, so intense that it made her weak...

_And that is NEVER going to change..._

Melina stared back at Jeff, panic beginning to take hold of her. Something _had_ happened last night between the two of them, something that she couldn't remember and that Jeff seemed unwilling to voice. Something had _changed_ last night--not just between her and Nitro...but between her and Jeff Hardy as well.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior released his grip on her shoulders, but Melina couldn't move. She was frozen to the spot, pinned in place by the intensity burning in Jeff's emerald irises. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jeff raise his hand, and then she felt his fingers graze her cheek as he brushed back a loose strand of hair from her face.

The feeling that bubbled up inside her was a pale shadow, a faint echo of the desire that existed in her memory--but nevertheless, it took hold of her, sending her stomach plummeting toward the floor. It took everything Melina had to lock her knees in place lest they buckle beneath her; to bite back the moan that rose in her throat.

Abruptly, Jeff snatched his hand away, and the sensation inside her dissipated as rapidly as it had emerged. The Charismatic Enigma looked away, jamming his hands into his pants pockets. His voice, when he spoke, was a low mutter, and Melina couldn't tell whether he was talking to her or merely himself: "What does it matter? You don't even remember, anyway."

"Remember what?" the Dominant Diva managed to whisper, but Jeff was already moving away, stalking down the hall, his movements like those of a caged jungle cat. It wasn't until he disappeared around the corner that Melina's legs finally gave way, and she collapsed to the ground, her limbs splaying out ungracefully on either side of her.

The paparazzi princess groped around on the ground, searching for and locating her discarded SideKick, which she clutched to her chest like a familiar stuffed animal. Contrary to Johnny's claims, there had been _no_ messages from him from the previous night...but somehow, Melina wasn't surprised.

Her boyfriend's lies, however, were far from her mind at this moment. In fact, the only thing on her mind was the one question that had been plaguing her since this morning--a question which, now, had taken on a note of urgency. A question which the Dominant Diva now voiced tentatively in the stillness of the deserted hallway.

"What..._happened_...last night?"

* * *

The question continued to plague her throughout the week.

Despite all of her attempts to remember, to string together her small scraps of memory, Melina's recollection of that night remained fractured, swallowed up behind an impenetrable wall of darkness. The forced ignorance, the sense of not being _allowed_ to know, drove her crazy--but there was nothing that she could do. There was only one other individual who knew what had happened that night...and there was no way she was asking _Jeff Hardy_ for clarification on _anything_.

Because she strongly suspected that whatever he had to say would change _everything_--and that scared her even more than not knowing.

Which brought up the question: what exactly was she going to _do_ about Johnny? Since learning about his indiscretions, she had moved from devastated to stunned to a kind of numb acceptance--but she knew she couldn't just leave it at this. If she encouraged him by continuing to let him believe that she was ignorant of his..._extracurricular activities_...then he would grow more and more confident that she never _would_ find out. And then, how long would it take before someone on the roster found out?

And if _that_ happened--how long would it be before the entire roster joined together in ridiculing her behind her back? Even Melina had to admit that the idea possessed a kind of bitter humor; imagine, the Dominant Diva who couldn't even dominate her own boyfriend. But the reality of it was far from humorous. If people found out about Johnny, they would never take her seriously again. Hell, she wouldn't even be a _Diva _anymore; just a trophy girlfriend trying desperately to hang onto her meal ticket. Melina had already spent a large chunk of her career not being taken seriously--she didn't know if she had the mental and emotional fortitude to weather through that kind of disrespect once again.

But if she broke up with Johnny...what then? She would truly _be_ alone, without friends or allies to watch her back. Johnny was imperfect, certainly, a jackass, at least some of the time--but he was _safe, familiar_. Despite his many flaws, she had spent the last two years arranging her life around his career and his success--breaking away from that would throw her entire existence in turmoil. Besides, as his manager-slash-girlfriend, she had garnered a tenuous form of respect. A respect that was tempered with jealousy and petty animosity, but respect nonetheless. Without Johnny, she wouldn't even have _that_--and there was no way she would be able to swallow her pride and start all the way at the bottom again.

What would be worse--breaking her own heart or allowing Johnny to break it for her? Either way, the paparazzi princess knew that she had to make a decision soon--because the longer she remained in this indecisive limbo, the more potential this situation would have to spiral out of her control.

Luckily, when she and Johnny arrived at the arena in Tyler, Texas for the Friday night house show, Melina was spared from any further mental debate that evening when she was summoned to the General Manager's office. Leaving her suitcase with Nitro, the Dominant Diva followed the road agent down to the room appointed as the executive office, wondering what the summons might pertain to.

Could it possibly have something to do with the Women's Championship, which had been vacant ever since Trish Stratus had won it and retired nearly a week ago at Unforgiven?

Even before she reached the office, Melina heard the cacophony of excited feminine voice, proving her assumption correct. Sure enough, when she pushed the door open, she found the small space crowded with chairs and the six other women who made up the Raw Diva roster.

Most of the Divas were clustered into small groups, laughing and gossiping amongst themselves. The only exception to this rule was Lita, who sat silently apart from the others, arms crossed over her chest, feet propped up on a nearby chair. Following the red-haired Diva's example, Melina moved quietly into the room, making her way to a chair all the way in the far corner, away from the other groups.

As she did so, she heard the multitude of conversations lapse briefly into silence, felt the weight of everyone's gaze on her as she made the trek to her seat. The Dominant Diva lifted her chin up a little, glad that her designer sunglasses shielded her eyes from their view.

Did they know? Did they suspect? Was that why they were so intent upon her? Or was this silent treatment merely another manifestation of their jealousy?

A second elapsed, then two, before the lull subsided and the conversation resumed its original pace. Melina let out a low sigh of relief as she felt the collective focus shift away from her. She concentrated instead on taking her seat, crossing one leg primly over the other.

"Ladies!" The paparazzi princess glanced up as Jonathan Coachman's confident tone rang out. Raw's Executive Assistant held up his hands, looking around the room, eying the seven women before him with an appreciation that bordered on outright leering. The Coach suffered from a delusion that all of Raw's Divas found him incredibly attractive--a delusion which none of them shared. "If I could have your attention, please..." There was no need; silence reigned in the General Manager's office.

Coach cleared his throat, shooting another glance over the room. "Now, you're probably all wondering why I called you all here," Seven heads nodded in agreement. "I brought you here to address the situation with the Women's Championship--"

"This is a load of bullshit," Lita interrupted, her throaty alto voice petulant. All of the other women turned toward the Rated-R Diva, who tossed her vibrant hair over one shoulder as she went on. "_I _walked into Unforgiven the _champion_ last week. Trish _retired_; that title should go back to _me_ by default--"

Immediately, a flurry of indignant protests greeted her, and Raw's Executive Assistant waved his arms, silencing the clamor before a full-fledged argument could break out. "Ladies, please, whatever your views are as to _who_ should be Champion, I think we all agree that we _need _a Champion. Am I right?" Seven nods of assent. "So, as per order of the McMahons, I'm initiating a tournament for the Women's Championship, which will involve all of you, and which will take place over the next month, with the final match for the title taking place at Cyber Sunday. You all will be informed in due time of your opponents, as well as the type of match you'll be wrestling." Another appreciative glance around the room. "Any questions?"

There were none. Coach turned his attention toward the Rated-R Diva. "Lita?" Lita cast her eyes sullenly up in his direction, but said nothing. "You'll be wrestling in the first match this Monday on Raw against Candice Michelle--and since you never got the opportunity to cash in on your rematch clause, the McMahons are allowing you to select your own referee."

"Three guesses as to who _that's_ going to be," Candice muttered under her breath, but other than her, no one said anything.

Lita, on the other hand, merely rolled her eyes. "Whatever..." the red-haired Diva muttered. She rose to her feet suddenly, the legs of the metal chair screeching against the cement floor. "We done here?" Without waiting for Coach's assent, Lita strode toward the door--but not without shooting Candice a nasty look.

"Now, if no one has anything else--" But the remaining six Divas had already taken Lita's exit as their cue to leave, and the rest of Coach's speech was drowned out in the shuffling of chairs. The clamor was deafening, but Melina barely heard it over the whir of her own thoughts. A shot at the Women's Championship--not like that title match she'd coerced out of Trish a year ago, but a _real opportunity_ to prove herself as an in-ring performer.

If she could win this, if she could go all the way, then she would no longer be JAD. She would no longer be just Johnny Nitro's girlfriend. She would be the _Women's Champion_, and for the first time, _truly _the Dominant Diva.

The paparazzi princess pushed her way through the crush of bodies out into the hall, and was about to make her way in the direction of the locker room when a figure appeared in front of her, blocking her path.

Mickie James finger-combed her long golden-brown hair back from her face, peering at the Dominant Diva. "I couldn't help but notice that Coach included you in his little spiel back there." The former Women's Champion smiled scornfully. "I just wanted to tell you: don't get your hopes up. This tournament--it's for _Divas_, not stuck-up bitches. " Mickie tilted her head to the side. "In case you've forgotten--I've _beat_ Trish Stratus."

"In case _you've _forgotten," Melina shot back, curbing the urge to smack the brunette. "So have I."

Mickie's smirk widened. "Yeah...but not when it counted."

The paparazzi princess felt something inside her tense up with rage, but she merely offered a curt smile of her own. "Whatever..." She started to maneuver past Mickie, but the other Diva shot her arm out, preventing Melina from passing.

"By the way, how's Nitro?" The casual yet deliberate lilt of Mickie's voice made Melina's blood run cold; it took all she had not to let it register on her face. The brunette went on. "See, because when I was out with Candice and Torrie last Sunday, I could have _sworn _that I saw him hanging all over some chick. Some _blond _chick." She emphasized the last part, flicking her gaze up innocently to meet Melina's. "But then again, _you_ wouldn't know anything about that..._would you_?"

Melina hesitated for a second, and in the back of her mind, she was aware that it was probably a second too long. Slowly, the Dominant Diva pushed her sunglasses up onto the top of her head, meeting Mickie's gaze without flinching. "Careful, Mickie," Her voice was soft but purposeful, like velvet wrapped around steel. "Keep saying stuff like that, and they'll stick you back in the straitjacket." Once more, Melina attempted to move around the other Diva. "Now, if you'll _excuse _me--"

"He is, isn't he? Cheating on you, I mean?" Mickie's tone was soft, but no less malicious. As soon as she uttered those words, Melina felt her heart stop. "_He's_ cheating, and _you_ know about it--and the only reason you haven't _dumped_ his ass is because you're too scared of life without him."

The former Women's Champion moved a little closer, bringing her mouth up to Melina's ear. "Face facts, _Melina_--you may _call_ yourself the Dominant Diva, but deep down...you're not a Diva. You're just a _trophy_."

The paparazzi princess didn't think; she just _reacted_. Her arms shot out, catching Mickie in the chest and shoving her backward. Mickie's eyes widened in surprise and she stumbled back, almost falling. Instantly, Melina attacked, shoving her a second time, and while Mickie reeled, struggling to regain her balance, the Dominant Diva swept her feet out from under her.

The former Women's Champion landed ungracefully on her ass, and before she could recover, Melina was on top of her, pulling her hair, clawing at her like a wild animal. She was vaguely aware that she was screaming, weaving together a string of obscenities that would have made a sailor blush. But the paparazzi princess didn't care; right now, all she wanted to do was claw Mickie's eyes from their sockets...

Strong arms wrapped around her, hauling her off Mickie, lifting her bodily off the ground. Melina struggled against her captor, her feet kicking frantically in mid-air. "Let go of me, _let go of me_!" she shrieked.

In front of her, Torrie and Candice had come to Mickie's aid, kneeling down beside her and helping her back up to a sitting position. Pushing her hair back from her face, the former Women's Champion glowered at Melina--an expression that quickly sagged into one of absolute shock. Her friends looked at her, then back up at the paparazzi princess. Their faces immediately assumed the same countenance.

Melina twisted her head around, trying to get a good look at her captor--and locked eyes with Jeff Hardy.

For an instant, both of them froze. For the first time, Melina became aware that it was _Jeff's_ body pressed against hers, that it was _Jeff's _arms wrapped tight around her. The yearning, the desire, surged upward in her again, hot and fierce, melting her insides--and this time, she wanted nothing more than to yield to it. Her gaze traveled, unbidden, to his lips, and she had the most peculiar sense of deja vu.

As though she already knew what it felt like to kiss him.

All of a sudden, awareness slammed into Melina, cold and jarring, and her eyes grew wide. What was she _thinking_? This was _Jeff Hardy_, her worst enemy--and she was actually entertaining the idea of _kissing _him?

The Dominant Diva struggled, more violently this time. "Let me go," she repeated. Then, with more vehemence: "Let me _go_!"

Instantly, Jeff released her, and the paparazzi princess tumbled to the floor, landing awkwardly on her hands and knees. She looked up at Jeff, who smiled bitterly, holding out his arms and making a little bow. "Anything you say, princess," the Charismatic Enigma drawled.

Behind her, she heard Mickie snort with laughter, soon joined by Candice and Torrie. Melina felt her lower lip quiver, felt the tears climbing up her throat, and knew that if she stayed here even a second longer, she was going to start crying. Scrambling to her feet, she ran down the hall, just as the other Divas' laughter rose in volume.

Melina shoved her sunglasses down over her face, in an attempt to hide the tears already streaming down her cheeks. Her head was throbbing, her heart pounding--and over all, one question kept echoing over and over in her mind:

_What's WRONG with me?_


	13. Chapter 13: She Loves Me Not

**A/N: NEW CHAPTER! I think this is actually within a decent amount of time for me. This chapter was a LOOONG one, and it took me 'til the early morning to finish it, but I powered through it, because I was incredibly excited about this chapter, and because you're all awesome. I do apologize for any errors: I proofread, I really do, but sometimes, I am the g'd mayor of Typo City. So, please, enjoy! Peace!**

**A/A/N: The song lyrics are by Papa Roach; all rights, etc. belong to them.**

**Thank you to **Esha Napoleon, extremist, TheEnglishRejects, m-yaz, D Torres, Lucy Grayson, **and **nightmarelover **for reviewing the last chapter! Love yas!

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Chapter 13: She Loves Me Not

_**When I see her eyes**_

_**Look into my eyes**_

_**And I realize that she can see inside my head**_

_**So I close my eyes**_

_**Thinking that I could hide**_

_**Disassociate so I don't have to lose my head...**_

Jeff leaned back against the side of the semi, hands in pockets, sweatshirt hood up, listening to the sounds of Papa Roach blasting into his ears. The Monday Night Raw broadcast was just starting, but thanks to that douchelord Jonathan Coachman, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior wasn't even booked in a match that evening. Since that left him with the option of either tooling around backstage or tooling around outside, the Charismatic Enigma had opted for outside, settling for strolling between the shadowy behemoth forms of the equipment trucks. Here, out in the fresh air, with the faint vibrations of machinery beneath his feet and the louder vibrations of guitars and drums in his head, he could think about where to go next in what was fast becoming a losing quest to win the Intercontinental Championship.

Jeff was painfully aware that last week's match had probably been his last shot at the title--any opportunity after this would be nothing short of a miracle. There had always been an unspoken "three strikes and you're out" rule in this business when it came to title matches--and the Rainbow-Haired Warrior had already blown through his three strikes. Maybe if Shane McMahon had been here, he might have been able to negotiate his way into another title opportunity. But Shane wasn't here. He and the Chairman had both been AWOL since their Hell in a Cell match at Unforgiven, leaving Coachman in charge. Coach didn't like Jeff, and made no attempts to disguise his dislike--hence his omission from the broadcast tonight. Sure, he could always be patient and wait for the McMahons to return, but who knew when _that _would be? And even if he did get his title shot--who was to say that Johnny Nitro would still be the champion by then?

_What's this really about, Jeff?_ The irritating inner voice was back, tempting the Charismatic Enigma to shove the business end of a power drill into his ear socket. _This rivalry with Nitro--is it REALLY about the Intercontinental Title...or about taking him down a peg?_

Jeff gritted his teeth. "Does it matter?" he shot back. "The guy's a dick. He's arrogant, he's obnoxious, he--" The Rainbow-Haired Warrior hesitated in mid-sentence.

..._he treats his girlfriend like shit..._had been what he meant to say--but the younger Hardy brother couldn't allow himself to voice that to _anyone_, not even to a disembodied voice that existed solely inside his head.

_All right_...The voice, not easily placated, went on. _Say you beat him. Say you become the Intercontinental Champion. Say Nitro blows his rematch, and afterwards, the two of you go back to having nothing to do with each other again. What then? Are you just going to forget about Melina? Forget about what he's doing to her?_

"In case you haven't noticed," the Charismatic Enigma retorted. "Melina's a Grade-A bitch. It's not my _fault _or my _problem_ that her boyfriend's a complete d-bag." The younger Hardy brother shook his head. "Besides--I _have_ a girlfriend already."

_Yeah, but that didn't stop you from making out with Melina when you had the chance..._

Jeff shook his head again, trying to keep the memories from spilling back into his consciousness. "That was--"

--_A mistake. Yeah, yeah, so you keep saying. Tell me something, then, Jeffro--_The voice sounded almost gleeful--_You weren't the one who was drunk...so why'd you kiss her in the first place?_

"Because..." The Rainbow-Haired Warrior's voice faltered for a moment. He stared straight ahead, focusing on the red-and-white WWE logo emblazoning the side of the truck in front of him, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could stop them: "Because..._I wanted to._"

A flicker of movement at the corners of his vision jolted him out of his one-sided dialogue, and Jeff turned toward its source, grateful for _anything_ that would distract him from this present train of thought. Staying within the shadows cast by the semis, he moved closer to the back entrance of the arena. Rounding the corner, the Charismatic Enigma stopped, his green eyes fastened to the two figures a few yards away.

Triple H and Shawn were too focused on depositing a limp body into a nearby trash wheelbarrow to notice the younger Hardy brother's presence. Even though it was dark, and the two members of D-Generation-X were blocking the majority of the view, Jeff still recognized the unconscious figure as Raw's Executive Assistant.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior felt the corner of his mouth curl upward in a grin. He didn't know what Coach had done to bring the wrath of DX down upon him--but he certainly deserved it.

Handing the wheelbarrow off to a loitering arena worker, the two Superstars dusted their hands off, laughing and slapping each other affectionately on the back. Jeff remained where he was, unsure whether he should try and sidle unobtrusively toward the arena or slip back into the shadows. But then, Triple H turned, spotting the Charismatic Enigma, and Jeff realized that neither option was a possibility at this point. The Cerebral Assassin nudged his partner, who turned as well, and both Superstars immediately began walking toward him.

The younger Hardy brother pulled the ear buds out of his ears, shoving them back into his sweatshirt pocket, as he struggled to think of something to say. He still didn't really know where he stood on the whole DX issue. Part of him (a large part, in fact) respected the faction's rebellious spirit and their ability to get under authority's skin. But another part of him, the facet of his personality that had been tempered from experience, knew that openly supporting D-Generation-X could lead to his second stint with the WWE ending before it really began.

Triple H was talking now, his voice traveling easily across the open lot. "Jeff Hardy!" The Game turned to his partner, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "Look, Shawn--it's _Jeff Hardy_!" The Heartbreak Kid merely smiled and nodded. Triple H looked back at the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. "Big fan of what you do; enjoyed your match last week." The Cerebral Assassin shook his head sympathetically. "Tough break on how it ended."

"Shame, really," Shawn chimed in.

"And I'll bet Coach didn't even have the courtesy to book you in a match tonight," Triple H continued smoothly without missing a beat. Both members of D-Generation-X shook their heads, tsking. The Game shot a cautious look over his shoulder, then glanced back at Jeff. "By the way...about what you just saw--"

The Charismatic Enigma held up his hands, shrugging. "Hey, the only thing I saw was you two taking out the trash."

Both Triple H and Shawn's faces immediately lit up in pleased grins at Jeff's comment. The Cerebral Assassin laughed, stepping forward to whack him on the back, so hard that he almost knocked the younger Hardy brother over. "I _knew _there was a reason we liked this guy, Shawn!" the Game exclaimed. "We should do something for him. Tell me, Jeff--" Triple H turned back toward the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. "--since you're our new best friend and all, and since--with Coach gone--_DX _is running things...is there anything we can do for you?" The Cerebral Assassin smiled, cracking his knuckles. "You know, _match_-_wise_?"

Jeff returned the grin, reaching up to stroke his chin. _This_ was the opportunity that he had been hoping for. "_Well_..._now_ that you mention it...this is _one_ thing..."

* * *

"_What_?"

Nitro leaped out of his chair, his mouth hanging open, staring aghast at the two Superstars across from him. The two Superstars who had just told him he would be defending his title tonight against Jeff Hardy. Next to him, Melina sat stock-still in her chair, equally shocked, her hands gripping the armrests so hard that her knuckles flushed white.

After a few seconds of silence, followed by a few more of incomprehensible stuttering, the Intercontinental Champion found his voice. "Are you _kidding_ me?" the self-proclaimed A-lister exclaimed. He ran his hands through his blond-streaked hair, pushing it back from his face. "How many times do I have to beat this guy before you'll just accept that _I'm better than him_?"

Nitro began ticking items off on his fingers as he went on. "I beat him on _Raw_. I beat him at _Unforgiven_. Hell, I beat him _and_ five other guys last week in a _Six-Pack Challenge_--"

As far as Melina could tell, Triple H's expression never changed--but yet, somehow now, there was something about his eyes, about his posture, that seemed harder, more intimidating. The smile never left his face, but the Dominant Diva could feel the tension in the room suddenly ratchet upward several levels. Nitro must have sensed it too, because he snapped his mouth shut, choosing to sit down and cross his arms petulantly over his chest.

"Are you finished?" the Game asked mildly. There was no response from either member of the A-list couple. The Cerebral Assassin cleared his throat. "See, the thing is, Johnny-boy--those matches were made by Jonathan Coachman and the McMahons. In case you haven't noticed--" Triple H gestured at the office, which had already been defaced with several examples of D-Generation-X's neon-green trademark. "--tonight, DX is running the show. And what we're _telling_ you is: you're going to go down to that ring tonight, and defend your Intercontinental Championship against Jeff Hardy."

Triple H shot a look at his partner before turning his attention back to Nitro and Melina. "Of course, if you have any _objections_, you and I could always _discuss _it--" The Game reached down behind the desk, and Melina actually heard Nitro gulp as the former World Champion's trusty sledgehammer came into view. The Cerebral Assassin went on, his tone still casual. "--in private, of course. Where there aren't any cameras...or _witnesses_."

The paparazzi princess heard her boyfriend open his mouth to respond, and quickly sprang to her feet, grabbing onto Johnny's shoulder and sinking her nails into his skin. "All right!" the Dominant Diva exclaimed through clenched teeth. "Enough already! He'll wrestle the damn match!"

Nitro looked up at her, his mouth hanging open in shock. "Mel, what're you--"

Melina shot the Intercontinental Champion a Look. "Johnny, come on," the paparazzi princess hissed under her breath. "He's got a hammer."

For a moment or two, Nitro continued to stare at her, still unable to believe she had thrown him under the bus so readily. But eventually, the self-proclaimed A-lister realized the futility of the situation and rose to his feet, shooting both members of DX a fierce glare in the process. "This is ridiculous," the Intercontinental Champion snarled. "As soon as Mr. McMahon gets back--I'm filing a formal protest."

"You do that," the Cerebral Assassin replied cheerfully, seemingly unfazed by the threat. Grabbing Melina's hand, Nitro led her roughly to the door, but just as he was about to open it, Triple H added: "Don't worry, Johnny-boy, it won't be all bad. After all, we're still gonna let you bring your slut to ringside." At this, the Heartbreak Kid winced, and leaning down, whispered something in his partner's ear. The Game listened, nodding thoughtfully. "Oh, sorry--your _girlfriend_."

At this, Melina felt a hot spike of rage pierce her insides, and for a moment, she was on the verge of crossing the room and slapping the former 10-time Champion right across the face. But in the next instant, the Dominant Diva managed to regain control of herself. As cathartic as doing so would feel, it would only make things worse for her _and_ Johnny. So the paparazzi princess settled for scowling at Triple H, opening the door and shoving her boyfriend out into the hallway.

As soon as they were both in the corridor and the door had clicked shut softly behind them, the Intercontinental Champion whirled around, glaring at his girlfriend. "What the fuck just happened in there?" Nitro demanded. "How could you do that to me, Mel? How could you just _sit there_ and let them stick me in a _title match _against that _psycho_?"

Melina stared up at her boyfriend, feeling the rage inside her swell beyond the breaking point. For a week, she had been holding back her anger, her hurt, and her resentment, and before she could stop herself, she had jammed her face into Nitro's, her voice cold and brittle: "Oh. My. God. Johnny, he had a fucking _sledgehammer_! What was I supposed to do? Oh, and did you not see the way he was leering at me the entire time?" The Dominant Diva's lip curled in disgust. "I have a pretty good idea what I would have had to _do _to _him_ to get you out of that match!"

The anger drained from Nitro's expression, and for a moment, he looked stunned. When he eventually regained his voice, his tone was tentative. "If it would have gotten me out of the match...would you have done it?"

The paparazzi princess felt her jaw drop. She stared, speechless, at the Intercontinental Champion, unable to believe what she had just heard. "Unbelievable," Melina finally managed to whisper. Her voice was shaking, both with fury and with unshed tears. "You are..._unbelievable_." She moved back a step, her legs numb beneath her. "You know what? Go. Just _go_." She pointed down the hall toward the gorilla position. "Enjoy wrestling that match by _yourself_!" Spinning on her heel, Melina turned and stormed away in the opposite direction.

She instantly heard Nitro's frantic footsteps behind her, followed by his hand gripping her arm. "Mel, wait!" the self-proclaimed A-lister pleaded. "I didn't mean it! It was just a joke; that's _all_! I was only _kidding_!"

Melina didn't reply, but didn't resist as Nitro gently turned her around to face him. "I need you, Mel," the Intercontinental Champion murmured. "You're all I've got." He gently touched her cheek, his fingers grazing her skin. "I need you..." Nitro repeated, dipping his head down to kiss her.

Melina averted her face, so that Nitro's intended smooch landed on her jaw instead of her lips. "All right," the Dominant Diva replied flatly. She still refused to look at her boyfriend. "Let's just get this over with."

For a moment, Nitro seemed puzzled by her show of coldness, but he quickly shrugged it off, wrapping his arms around Melina and pulling her into his embrace. The paparazzi princess leaned against him like dead weight, her arms hanging limply at her sides. "Don't worry, Mel," the self-proclaimed A-lister promised, seemingly unaware of his girlfriend's unresponsiveness. "After tonight, everything's going to go back to the way it was. Tonight..._I'm gonna end Jeff Hardy's career_."

* * *

Jeff grabbed two handfuls of Nitro's highlighted hair, hurling him over the top rope and back into the ring. A few feet below him, Melina shrieked and spewed her disapproval, but the Charismatic Enigma paid her no mind. His title bout with Nitro had turned into an all-out war. Already, he'd missed a Whisper in the Wind, had his arms and back stretched to near-excruciating limits, and been slammed jaw-first into the turnbuckle post.

But the Rainbow-Haired could feel it; that almost-imperceptible shift in momentum, which would slowly but surely swing the match in his favor. All he had to do was keep up the pace--and somehow simultaneously block out and keep an eye on the screaming banshee at ringside.

Jeff dropped to the ring, locking his legs over Nitro's in a pinning combination. Referee Chad Patton dropped to the mat, slamming his hand to the canvas for the count.

_1...2..._

Incredibly, Nitro somehow summoned the strength to flip his body under and out of the pin. Panting and pulling himself along with his hands, the Intercontinental Champion crawled to the corner, using the ropes to pull himself up. Once he had righted himself, he turned and lunged at Jeff with an intended clothesline, but the Rainbow-Haired Warrior easily ducked it. Leaping with ease onto the top of the turnbuckle, the younger Hardy brother launched himself back and over with his second Whisper in the Wind.

This time, the self-proclaimed A-lister didn't have the chance to dive out of the way. Jeff nailed it perfectly, sending both of them crashing to the mat. The impact briefly knocked the air out of his lungs, but the Charismatic Enigma fought through it, rolling Nitro over, hooking his leg for the pin.

_1...2..._

Jeff let out a low growl of frustration as Nitro kicked out yet again. As much as he despised the Intercontinental Champion, he had to hand it to him; the pretty-boy had some pretty deep reservoirs of toughness. The self-proclaimed A-lister slithered out from under him, crawling to the ropes and pulling himself to his feet. Jeff immediately attacked him, grabbing Nitro's arm and swinging him into an Irish whip. The Intercontinental Champion flew across the ring, but just as he hit the ropes, he suddenly dropped to his knees, then his stomach, as someone yanked him out of the ring.

For an instant, Jeff froze, frowning a little in bewilderment, but then he saw the mane of red, blond, and brown hair, and knew instantly what was happening: Melina, once again making sure that her meal ticket wasn't too badly bruised. Jeff could see her obvious concern from the other side of the ring, the way she gently touched her boyfriend's face...

..._Melina's head lolling backward as she stared blearily up at him, her skin a sickly greenish-white..._

_...Johnny? He left me..._

The younger Hardy brother's green eyes narrowed, his vision clamping down into red as he launched his lean frame across the ring. Grabbing onto the ropes, he swung his body between them, catching Nitro right in the jaw with a nicely placed mule kick.

Melina shrieked, immediately dropping to her knees to check on her boyfriend, but the Charismatic Enigma barely took notice. He was too busy climbing out of the ring--ignoring Patton's protests--jumping up onto the black security barrier and taking a moment to steady himself.

Even though it had been a while since he had run the rails, Jeff's equilibrium adjusted almost instantly. To him, the narrow width of the security barrier seemed as broad as the entrance ramp. Slowly at first, but quickly picking up speed, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior ran along the curve of the barrier, launching himself up and directly at Nitro.

Just as he was airborne, however, Jeff realized that Nitro was not alone, _that Melina was directly behind him_. The Charismatic Enigma tried to shout, tried to yell out a warning, but it was all happening to fast, and the most he was able to get out of his mouth was a garbled _Get out of the way..._

And then came the impact, and it was too late to say anything else.

All three of them hit the floor; Jeff immediately rolling off Nitro and onto the bottom of the entrance ramp, getting to his feet. The Intercontinental Champion had taken the brunt of the damage, as intended, allowing the younger Hardy brother to survey the damage. His emerald irises rapidly focused on Melina, and Jeff let out a low sigh of relief when he saw that the Dominant Diva had apparently managed to dive out of the way just in time. But then he saw her wince, and realized that one of her ankles was caught beneath Nitro's prone figure.

For a moment, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior hesitated, caught between his desire to win the match, and his instinct to help her, to tend to her. But the moment soon passed, and Jeff eventually looked away, _forced _himself to.

Melina had chosen this road long before she had met him--and as long as they were out here, they were enemies. Nothing would ever change that.

The Charismatic Enigma focused instead on grabbing the Intercontinental Champion by the hair, pulling him off the floor and throwing him back into the ring. Nitro hit the mat and rolled once or twice, but generally remained out of it. Jeff entered the ring, then climbed the turnbuckle, pausing for a moment to take it all in. It didn't seem possible that he was here, on this night, only one Swanton away from winning the Intercontinental title.

He stole a glance over his shoulder. Melina had recovered sufficiently to pull herself to her knees, and crawling over to the steel steps, pulled herself gingerly to her feet. Turning, she took in the scene--Nitro on the mat, Jeff ready to deliver the Swanton. Her brown eyes grew wide, and she instantly began screaming: "No! _No!_"

Jeff felt a bitter smile touch the corner of his mouth. "Sorry, princess," he whispered.

And then he _dove_.

For Jeff, it felt as though life had been reduced to slo-mo. He could feel every turn of the flip as he fell toward the mat. Everything--the cheers of the fans, Melina's screams--everything died away into silence, and all he could hear was the slow, steady beat of his own heart. When he connected with Nitro's body, the impact didn't seem as agonizing as it usually was. With effort, feeling like he was moving through a thick, viscous fluid, Jeff grabbed Nitro's leg, hooking it for the pin. Patton was beside him, slamming his hand to the mat; each thud seemed to last an eternity.

_1...2...3..._

For a second, the younger Hardy brother was sure that he was dreaming; that he was going to wake up in his hotel room only to find that none of this had taken place. But then reality rushed back in with a WOOOSH, bringing with it the screaming fans and the roar of his entrance music, along with Lillian Garcia's voice announcing him as the _new_ Intercontinental Champion_,_ and he realized that _this_, _this was no dream_.

The Charismatic Enigma staggered to his feet, stumbling over to the referee, who had already retrieved the blue-and-gold title belt. Jeff accepted it reverently, with hands that were trembling slightly. Nitro's name was still inscribed on the name plate, but that didn't really concern Jeff. Tonight, thousands of fans here in Topeka and millions more around the world had seen him finally defeat that pretty-boy asshole Johnny Nitro and become the _new_ Intercontinental Champion.

Jeff climbed one turnbuckle, then another, stealing equal glances at both the sea of fans before him and his newly-won Championship. It all seemed so surreal, almost too surreal to be actually happening. Jumping down off the turnbuckle post, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior strolled over to the ropes, watching with intense pleasure as the now _former_ Intercontinental Champion--God, he would _never_ get tired of saying that--backed up the ramp, his girlfriend in tow.

Nitro clutched his midsection, obviously still feeling the effects of the Swanton. The Look of Death he was currently shooting the younger Hardy brother was so comical that Jeff almost wanted to burst out laughing. Then, the Charismatic Enigma's gaze slid over to Melina, and his amusement faded a touch.

The paparazzi princess was limping badly, favoring her uninjured ankle. The spike heels she was wearing clearly weren't doing her any favors, and she seemed to be holding onto Nitro's arm more out of concern for her personal safety than any show of support.

Deep down, underneath all his elation, all his satisfaction, Jeff felt the smallest twinge of regret--but he quickly forced it away. He had taken Melina out of the equation; that was all. If he hadn't done it, the Dominant Diva would have found a way to screw him out of yet _another_ title match.

Besides, Melina hated him...right? _I don't like you, you don't like me...and that is never going to change..._Wasn't that what she had told him?

_She loves me not..._the Rainbow-Haired Warrior thought to himself, and had to bite his lip to hold back the laughter that immediately burbled up inside him. Instead, he settled for holding up the title triumphantly, knowing that was going to piss the A-list pair off even more.

A month ago, he had stood in this ring, watching as Nitro and Melina retreated up the ramp. But this time...things were different.

This time..._he_ had the belt.

* * *

_This wasn't supposed to happen..._

Those five words kept running through Melina's head, echoing over and over like some kind of accusatory mantra--as though their very presence would justify what had happened. Or better yet..._nullify_ it.

The Dominant Diva pressed her fingers to her forehead, trying to assuage the throbbing in her temples. She was still trying to piece together what had happened in those last few minutes--everything was still a blur. She had been outside the ring, checking on Johnny, trying to determine if they could get away with a count-out victory...And then there had been falling, and impact, and _pain_, as something heavy landed on her ankle, twisting it awkwardly.

And then, when she had pulled herself up, there had been Johnny, flat on his back in the ring, while Jeff Hardy stared down at him from the top of the ring post, preparing to deliver that lethal swan dive of his. He had looked at her, she was sure of it, in that instant before he dove. And--this was less certain, but she was even more sure of it--he had _smiled_ at her. The _fucker_ had smiled at her--as though to say _Hey princess, watch me while I mess up your boyfriend_...

And she had watched; she'd had no choice _but_ to watch. She'd been powerless to do anything as the Rainbow-Haired Warrior dove toward the mat, and in three brief seconds, had ended her boyfriend's reign as Intercontinental Champion.

None of this was supposed to happen. There was no way that _any_ of this was happening. Any minute now, she was going to wake up in her bed, next to Johnny, and find that he was still Intercontinental Champion--and Jeff Hardy had never come back to the WWE.

Melina's brown eyes narrowed. This was all Jeff Hardy's fault. Everything--not just Johnny's title loss, but everything that had preceded it--was the Charismatic Enigma's fault. Which was why she was going to find him...and make him pay.

Oh, _boy_, was she going to make him pay.

Melina limped down the hallway, gritting her teeth every time her foot made contact with the floor. She had abandoned her spike heels, but that wasn't enough to keep a bolt of pain from shooting up her leg every time she put weight on that foot. She didn't know where Johnny was; she had sort of shoved him in the direction of the trainer's room and dashed off. Right now, nothing, not Johnny's discomfort nor her own, was enough to distract the paparazzi princess from her vengeful quest.

The Dominant Diva reached the outskirts of the interview area, her steps slowing and her pulse accelerating when she heard Jeff's low Southern drawl. Moving closer, she saw the younger Hardy brother, his back to her, _Johnny's_ title belt on his shoulder, being interviewed by none other than that bimbo girlfriend of his.

Just seeing the two of them, so clearly a couple despite the rolling cameras, made Melina think of her own relationship...and how it was disintegrating. She focused on Maria, clad in some skimpy top and skirt made out of a repulsive shiny turquoise material that made her look more like a cheap hooker than a Diva. The paparazzi princess's lips pulled back from her teeth. Maria was an idiot, and while she was pretty--in the way that _all _WWE Divas were _pretty_--she certainly wasn't _beautiful_.

What did she have; what quality could she possibly possess that made her so appealing? What did Jeff Hardy see in her?

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior was speaking, his voice pulling Melina back to the present. "--now that I have this, I _know_ I'm a target!" Jeff tapped the title belt on his shoulder. He sounded rushed, out of breath. The Charismatic Enigma went on. "Guys like Carlito, Chris Masters, Shelton Benjamin--hell, I even know _Nitro's_ gonna want a rematch for _this_! _Everyone's _gonna want to strip me of my belt!" The younger Hardy practically shouted the last word, and then abruptly fell silent, as though daring Maria to challenge this claim.

"Strip?" the backstage reporter chirped brightly. "I know what you mean by 'strip'! Because..." Maria paused, and Melina felt the bile rise in her throat at the seductive tone in the other Diva's voice. "...I don't know if you know this or not, but _next week_, I'm going to ECW for _Extreme Strip Poker_!"

_Oh please..._the Dominant Diva thought to herself, rolling her eyes. If she had to listen to one more second of this bullshit, she was going to throw up all over herself. Jeff was talking--"You in Extreme Strip Poker? I _know_ I gotta see _that--_but Melina was already moving forward, grabbing the younger Hardy brother's arm, whirling him around to face her.

"What you're gonna see?" the paparazzi princess interrupted, her dark eyes narrowed to tiny slits. "You know what _you're_ gonna see? You're gonna see _Johnny Nitro_ get this championship back--" She tapped the title belt; her fingernail made a dull pinging noise when it connected with the metal. "--_that's_ what you're gonna see!"

She was painfully aware that she was babbling, stringing her words together without care or concern as to how they sounded. From the smile playing at the corners of Jeff's mouth, it was evident that he had noticed it too. Just this small indication of his amusement was enough to infuse Melina with a fresh surge of rage, and she opened her mouth, stammering out sentence fragments: "I...you know what...I'm...we're not...um...ah--"

Then, all at once, her self-control gave way, and Melina screamed, a wordless primal scream filled with all her hatred, all her anger--and all those other emotions that she couldn't identify, but which the Rainbow-Haired Warrior always seemed to evoke. Clenching her hands into fists at her sides, the Dominant Diva screamed again.

And again.

And _again_.

She had no idea how long she stood there, shrieking out her frustration, before a hand suddenly clamped over her mouth, silencing her cries. Melina tried to scream, but all that came out were a few muffled cries. Furious, she looked toward her silencer--her brown eyes widening when they met Jeff's emerald ones.

The younger Hardy brother regarded her with a kind of solemn impassiveness. Slowly, deliberately, he removed his hand from her mouth, as if to say _So...are you going to behave now?... _The paparazzi princess felt her chest grow tight, and she screamed once again, right in his face this time.

Instantly, Jeff's hand was back over her mouth, but this time, the Dominant Diva twisted out of his grasp, continuing to scream, her piercing cries echoing off the walls. Maria winced, holding her ear with one hand, while actually using the other to hold the microphone up to Melina's mouth, as though this was some sort of important sound bite.

Behind her, the Charismatic Enigma rolled his eyes, and Melina thought she heard him murmur: "Fuck this..." before he stalked off. But the paparazzi princess didn't care; she just kept screaming until her throat was sore, until her energy was spent, and she was gasping for breath.

Melina finally felt silent, and bent over, putting her hands on her knees and trying to suck oxygen back into her body. She heard a low giggle, and looked up to see the backstage reporter smirking--actually _smirking_--at her. "So...Melina..." Maria remarked, her bubbly tone just a trifle malicious. "Anything else you'd like to say to the WWE fans?"

Melina's lips curled back from her teeth in a snarl. With a low growl of rage, she reached out, shoving Maria as hard as she could. The backstage reporter fell backwards, her mouth a perfect "O" of surprise, still clutching onto her precious microphone--but Melina was already gone, storming away in search of Jeff Hardy.

* * *

It didn't take her long to find him; turning left into a dimly lit deserted hallway, she spotted him about halfway down it. The paparazzi princess strode toward him, the pain in her ankle irrelevant for once. "I'm not _finished_ with you, Hardy!" she snarled through gritted teeth.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior stopped, but didn't turn around. His voice, when he spoke, sounded more frustrated than anything else. "You know, princess, I'm starting to get a little sick of this."

Melina grabbed his arm, turning him around yet again, forcing him to face her. "Enjoy _this_ while it lasts," the Dominant Diva retorted, slapping the Intercontinental Championship with the palm of her hand. "Because once Johnny gets his rematch--"

With a swiftness that startled even her, the younger Hardy brother grabbed her hand, pulling it off the belt. The instant he touched her, heat ripped through her body, and Melina gasped, yanking her hand free. Jeff didn't seem to notice; his green eyes were bright with anger. "Princess, I'm amazed your boyfriend could even focus on that match tonight--especially since all he seems to care about is fucking other women."

Melina's face went slack, and all the fury drained out of her expression. Holding her hand--the one Jeff had grabbed--to her chest, she backed away a pace, staring aghast at the new Intercontinental Champion. No one knew, no one even _suspected_ (save a few jealous Divas)--but yet somehow, Jeff Hardy, _her worst enemy_, knew about her boyfriend's infidelity. Just hearing it, the cold hard truth about Nitro, spoken by a voice other than her own, was enough to shatter the few remaining self-delusions that had been protecting her since last week. There was no denying it. There was no other way to address it other than what it was.

Johnny was cheating on her...

Johnny was cheating on her...

_Johnny was cheating on her..._

Jeff must have taken her reaction for disbelief, because he kept going. "What? You thought I didn't know? Princess, my guess is that _everyone_ knows--and maybe if you weren't such a stuck-up _bitch_, they'd actually feel _sorry_ for you." There was a sort of resigned enthusiasm in the Charismatic Enigma's voice, as though he was getting no real pleasure out of the things he was saying. He leaned closer, lowering his voice. His face was only a few inches from hers; she could feel the heat radiating from his body. "How do it feel, princess, knowing that he doesn't care about you?"

"_Stop_." the paparazzi princess whispered in a voice already half-choked with tears.

Jeff didn't seem to hear her. "How does it _feel_, knowing that the one person you sacrificed _everything_ for doesn't give a _damn_ about you?"

"_Stop it_."

"Face facts, princess," Jeff had moved even closer; another inch, and his lips would touch hers. Melina knew that they shouldn't be standing like this, that anyone could walk into this hallway and get the wrong idea, but she couldn't move. She was too captivated by the younger Hardy brother's presence, his voice--even his words, painful as they were to hear.

Jeff went on. "_No one_ cares about you--except..." He hesitated for a second or two, leaning forward until his mouth grazed her ear. What he said next shocked Melina ever more than his admitted knowledge of Johnny's infidelity.

"...Except for me. _I care. _For some reason..._I care a lot_."

And then he was pulling away, turning his back to her, continuing his aimless trek down the hallway. Melina stared after him for a second, and before she knew what she was doing, she was chasing after him, running despite the pain in her ankle.

"_Jeff_!"

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior turned, letting out an impatient sigh. "What is it _now_, princ--"

That was all he got out before Melina kissed him.

For a moment, the younger Hardy brother was too shocked to respond, but in the next instant, instinct took over, and he shrugged the Intercontinental title off his shoulder, shoving Melina against the wall as he returned the kiss. Melina wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. Her tongue was in his mouth, touching his, _tasting _his. Jeff slowly ran his hands down her body, lingering on her soft curves, and feeling a small thrill course through him at hearing the moan that escaped from Melina's throat. With a low groan of his own, he lifted her up, nestling her body more firmly against his, feeling her legs wrap instinctively around his waist. Unconsciously, he began to grind against her as they kissed, incited by Melina's soft gasps, wanting more than just _this_, wanting--

Wanting _her_.

The two of them abruptly broke apart, gasping for breath. Jeff reached up, touched her face, running his thumb over her lower lip, swollen from kissing. Melina looked at him; her eyes were barely visible in the dim light. "Did you enjoy that?" the Dominant Diva whispered; she, like him, seemed to be having trouble talking.

Jeff nodded, still barely able to breathe. "Yeah..." He leaned in for another kiss, but Melina pressed her fingers to his lips, preventing him.

"Good." The paparazzi princess abruptly disentangled her arms and legs from around him, lowering herself to the floor. Without looking at him, she smoothed down her skirt, straightened her top, adjusted her hair. Once this was accomplished, she glanced back up at the Charismatic Enigma. Jeff couldn't be sure, but he almost got the impression that she was..._smiling_. "Because _this_...will _never_ happen again."

The implication of her words slammed into Jeff like a load of bricks, and he quickly took a step toward her. "Melina--" But the Dominant Diva was already gone, running down the hallway, turning a corner and disappearing from his sight.

Jeff stared after her, wondering what had just happened. One moment, it had been hatred as usual, and the next...everything had changed.

She had kissed him. He had taken her boyfriend's title, insulted her meal ticket, destroyed her safe and comfortable reality, and called her a bitch--and her response had been to kiss him. Why do that; why go through that...

...unless there was something there. Something _real._

Melina had told him that what had just transpired would never happen again--but Jeff wasn't so sure. He could see taste her lips, could still feel her body beneath his hands. And her eyes... When he had looked into her eyes, he had seen pure, intense desire gleaming in their dark depths--desire that he understood all too well.

She wanted him. She wanted him just as badly as he wanted her.

Jeff closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath. Right now, it didn't matter that he was the Intercontinental Champion, or that he had a gorgeous girlfriend waiting to congratulate him. All that matter was this single moment of clarity; this instant of comprehension as he realized what---or rather, _who_--it was that he really wanted.

And in that moment, Jeff Hardy knew that, for him, nothing would ever be the same again.


	14. Chapter 14: Except For Me

**A/N: NEW CHAPTER! For the record, I'm not that happy with this chapter. It's just one of those that, you know, didn't speak to me, and it's sort of a placeholder, a connecting point between A and B. But, I did try my best, and I can't do any better than that, so I hope you enjoy. Peace!**

**Thank you to **xAleciax, extremist, Lucy Grayson, Jyessie Abbey McMahon Hardy, nightmarelover, i luv hardy, TheSystematicSmackdownDiva, Esha Napoleon, m-yaz, Syco's Path, TheEnglishRejects, darkangelmel, **and **hardyLuv **for reviewing the last chapter! WOW! Love yas all very very much!

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Chapter 14: Except For Me

_ No one cares...except for me..._

Melina slowly ran her fingers over her lips, Jeff's words echoing in her mind. It didn't seem possible that a week had gone by since Johnny had lost his Intercontinental Championship. Back when MNM had still been together, the whole of her existence had been dedicated to keeping tag team gold around her boys' waists, and every day, every _second_, that went by without them being champions, she had counted as an unacceptable loss.

So it didn't make any sense that she had let seven entire days slip past her without once giving thought as to how she was going to get Johnny's title belt back. More than that...that try as she might, she just couldn't bring herself to _care_.

All she could think about was Jeff Hardy.

Melina closed her eyes, though it was unnecessary--even after seven days, the memory of that kiss still hadn't lost its clarity. Instead of diminishing over time, her recollections of those few moments--Jeff's hands on her body, his lips devouring hers--had sharpened, gradually pushing everything else into insignificance.

In some ways, she felt like Alice, tumbling down the rabbit hole--all the tangible elements of her life, everything she could count on to be real, had taken on the hazy, surreal quality of a dream, while the one thing that didn't make sense, the one event that couldn't possibly be true...was the only thing that seemed real.

Melina exhaled, letting her breath out in one long shuddering sigh. Kissing the Charismatic Enigma had been stupid. No, more than stupid--it had been downright _insane_. Jeff Hardy was her enemy--had been since the first day they had met--and as long as he held onto a championship that was rightfully Johnny's, he would continue to remain so. She didn't love him; hell, most of the time, she couldn't even _stand_ him...but yet--

But yet...for some reason, she wanted him more than she had ever wanted any man before. Even more...than Johnny.

_For some reason...I care a lot..._

The paparazzi princess slumped against the wall, staring dully ahead of her. Why had she done it; why had she complicated her life even more by kissing the Rainbow-Haired Warrior? Had it been to tease Jeff, taunting him by giving him a taste of what he could never have? Or maybe to get back at Johnny, to exact a little payback of her own by making out with his nemesis?

The Dominant Diva shook her head, negating the notions. Maybe it had been spite that had first compelled her to chase after the younger Hardy brother, but once her lips had touched his, another emotion entirely had taken over, and once again, she'd experienced the dizzying sensation of not being in control.

Maybe _that _was the reason she'd kissed him. This confusion, this yearning, this gnawing ache inside of her that she felt whenever she looked at the Charismatic Enigma--maybe she'd been hoping that kissing him would somehow burn those feelings out of her. As though kissing him could somehow purge the festering cancer of dissatisfaction from her life and return things to the way they had been.

Melina laughed, a soft bitter sound in the back of her throat. Fat lot of good _that_ had done. So far, all kissing Jeff Hardy had done was intensify the ache within her, the void of emptiness and loneliness inside her that begged desperately to be filled. A void which Johnny couldn't even come _close_ to filling.

Jeff had awoken something in her; something which she hadn't even known was lying dormant. But now _it_--the need, the want--was awake, and all she had to assuage it was a handful of stolen moments, a few seconds' worth of memories that she clung to greedily, like a junkie hanging onto his drug of choice.

All those times that she had derided the younger Hardy brother for his past addictions--wasn't it ironic, then; wasn't it poetic...that she was the one who had become the addict--

A muffled CRASH from the adjacent General Manager's office made the paparazzi princess jump, forcing her back to the present. She'd been standing out here for a while now, waiting for Johnny to finish protesting his Intercontinental Championship defense--and subsequent loss--the previous week to Shane McMahon.

And if the shouting from within was any indication--things were not going well.

Melina caught a few words--"This is _bullshit_!"--followed by the door being thrown open, almost hard enough to tear it off its hinges. Nitro stormed out, running both hands through his highlighted hair, his expression livid. "Fucking _prick_!" he snarled through gritted teeth; Melina was unsure whether he was referring to his arch-enemy or to the Chairman's son.

The former Intercontinental Champion seemed to have forgotten his girlfriend's presence; he continued his furious pace down the corridor, and the Dominant Diva practically had to jog to keep up. Nitro gestured with both hands as he talked. "_First_, he tells me that he's going to let last week's match stand. _Even though_ fucking D-X made it, _even though_ they forced me to wrestle--he's still going to let it count."

The self-proclaimed A-lister sucked in a breath before continuing. "_Then_, when I demand my rematch, he tells me no, he's not going to give it to me because--get this--the WWE fans might be getting a little sick of Johnny Nitro vs. Jeff Hardy." Nitro shook his head in disbelief. "I don't believe this--that _burnout _gets as many shots at the title as he _wants_, but _I _can't even get my fucking _rematch_!"

The former Intercontinental Champion halted so abruptly that Melina almost ran into him. His lips pulled back from his teeth in a humorless, slightly maniacal grin. "Tonight...during Hardy's match with the Big Show...I'm gonna fuck him up. If that giant doesn't tear him apart, I'll fucking finish the job..."

His voice trailed off, and Nitro turned, staring down at Melina as though noticing her for the first time. "And where were _you_?" the self-proclaimed A-lister demanded, accusation creeping back into his voice. His demeanor and tone were so unlike anything the paparazzi princess had ever seen before that she took a step back, mouth moving as she struggled to form words. Nitro went on. "Where were _you _when Shane-O-Mac was cutting my balls off in there? Oh, yeah, that's right--out here _daydreaming_, thinking about God knows what--"

"_Excuse me_?" The Dominant Diva finally regained her voice, and sarcastic incredulity dripped from every word as she stared up into her boyfriend's face. Melina indicated herself. "In case you _forgot_, I've got my _own _match tonight." She paused, laying deliberate emphasis on the words. "A qualifying match for the _Women's Championship_? So forgive me--_please, forgive me_--if I'm not thinking about _you_ and _your_ needs for once."

Normally, at this point in the conversation, Johnny would back down, or at least apologize, his girlfriend's tone alone enough to cow him back into obedience. But the former Intercontinental Champion did neither, and Melina felt the first faint slivers of unease prickle her insides. Finally, Nitro looked away, running another hand through his hair, tugging at his locks impatiently. "_Fine_," he snapped.

Melina wasn't even aware that she had been holding her breath until she felt it escape from her in a low sigh of relief. The paparazzi princess had turned to go when, without warning, Nitro grabbed her arm, forcing her back and shoving her against the wall. Melina let out a surprised yelp, almost biting her tongue in the process. Johnny had never, _ever_, manhandled her like this before, and she looked up at him, vitriolic words ready on her lips--words that died the instant she saw the expression on his face.

Nitro was barely recognizable, his handsome features twisted in a look of rage and hatred that she had never seen before. It was as though the former Intercontinental Champion had had a demon locked up inside of him, and only now, in the wake of his championship loss, was allowing it to break free. Nitro leaned down until his face was level with hers. Melina swallowed hard, feeling fear clamp down on her insides. "But remember this, Mel," the self-proclaimed A-lister hissed. "You _better_ start thinking how to get my championship back_." _He didn't add _Or else..._but nevertheless, it hung there in the air between them. "Without that title..._I'm nothing_."

Nitro paused for a second, gesturing between the two of them. "_We're_ nothing_." _With that, he suddenly released his hold on her arm, turning away and stalking down the hall without so much as a _Sorry_ or _Good luck_.

Melina remained there for a few moments, unable to move, her breath tearing in and out of her lungs in panicked gasps. Her arm was still sore where Johnny had grabbed it; she wouldn't be surprised if she noticed bruises later on.

The look on his face...that man had been neither her clueless boyfriend or the confident Superstar she accompanied to the ring. _That_ man was crazed, dangerous--and she never would have imagined that he could have been residing inside Johnny, _her_ Johnny.

The Dominant Diva slowly pushed herself off the wall, her body still shaking. Already, she could hear the familiar voice inside her head, the same voice that had convinced her not to dump Johnny two weeks ago--a voice that, even now, was trying to tell her that she had nothing to be scared off.

_That's not him. You KNOW Johnny, and he's not like that. _

And then:

_It's just because he lost his title, that's all. Once he gets his championship back, he'll go back to the way he used to be..._

Melina shook her head. _Maybe this IS him..._she told herself silently. _Maybe...this is who he's always been...all along..._

* * *

Melina rolled her shoulders a few times, cracking her neck back and forth. Her bout against Torrie Wilson was up shortly, occurring fairly early on in the show for a Divas match--toward the end of the first hour. Melina wasn't too concerned about her ability to beat the Boise Belle--she had defeated Torrie more than once when they had been on SmackDown together--but she had arrived at the Colonial Life Arena late today, and any chance she might have gotten to practice in the ring beforehand had been swallowed up by waiting outside the McMahons' office for Johnny.

Besides, less than an hour ago, she had witnessed her boyfriend go nearly psychotic right in front of her--and it was hard to focus on wrestling holds and moves when the memory of Johnny throwing her against the wall kept replaying over and over in her brain.

Melina quickly shook her head, temporarily dispelling the recollection. She had to move past this; somehow, she had to get her head back in this match--or else Torrie was going to walk out of Columbia the victor.

And the only thing worse than seeing the Boise Belle's arm raised in victory would be listening to that insufferable Mickie James gloat about it later on. The Dominant Diva could still remember what the former Women's Champion had said, the utter contempt and mocking in her tone as she spoke...

_Deep down...you're not a Diva...you're just a trophy..._

The paparazzi princess squatted down into a deep knee bend, pressing both hands against the wall. She did this for her left leg and had just switched to her right when she sensed a presence hovering beside her. Melina ignored it, continuing with her workout; it wasn't until she heard the familiar Southern drawl that she froze.

"Getting ready for your match, princess?"

Melina felt the bottom of her stomach drop out, and she swayed a little before grabbing hold of her equilibrium once again. She didn't move for a second or two; only stared straight ahead. It was hard enough keeping her expression neutral, let alone locked into one of dislike. Eventually, the Dominant Diva looked up, glaring at the new Intercontinental Champion. "What does it look like I'm doing?" she growled irritably. She swept her gaze up and down his body, her eyes lingering just a few seconds longer on the blue-and-gold Championship belt draped over his shoulder. "Don't _you_ have somewhere you have to be? You know...somewhere other than _right next to me_?"

Jeff shrugged, an easy smile touching his mouth. "I don't know about that, princess--I'm very partial to this particular stretch of hallway." Had he taken a step toward her, or was that just her imagination? The Charismatic Enigma continued. "Besides...I didn't see you in the ring earlier, and I wanted to make sure you're taking this match seriously."

Melina tilted her chin up, her lips curving up in a smirk. Slowly, she straightened up, standing and facing the Intercontinental Champion. "What, you think I can't beat Torrie Wilson?" she challenged.

Jeff slowly shook his head. "No...no, I think you can." Silence followed his answer, and for a few minutes, the two of them stood there, staring at each other. Jeff never moved, his hands never left his title belt and his pocket--and yet Melina still felt the mood between them shift, becoming something deeper, more intimate. It was as though...they were still back in that hallway, their arms wrapped around each other, low sounds of pleasure escaping their throats as they briefly relinquished themselves to their darkest urges.

Melina quickly averted her eyes, her cheeks burning. There was something about the intensity smoldering in the younger Hardy brother's emerald irises--something that made her feel as though she wasn't wearing anything.

She heard the soft scrape of boots on cement as Jeff moved toward her. His body wasn't quite touching hers, but yet, he still managed to crowd her against the wall. His mouth was next to her ear, his warm breath caressing her skin. "So...are we _ever_ going to talk?"

Melina kept her gaze straight ahead, swallowing hard. Her mouth had inexplicably gone dry. "About what?" she managed to reply, grateful that her voice sounded more or less normal.

She heard a low sound that could have almost been a chuckle, followed by: "About what happened."

Melina didn't answer at first; merely reached up and tucked a lock of hair back behind her ear. It turned out to be a mistake, the light brush of her finger against her skin only brought forth the memory of Jeff's hand on her face, of the heat that had burbled up inside her when he had done the same thing. "And what exactly _did_ happen?" the paparazzi princess replied, trying desperately to keep her voice low and disinterested.

This time, Jeff leaned closer, until his lips actually grazed her ear. "Don't you remember, princess?" the Rainbow-Haired Warrior whispered. She could feel his voice vibrating against her skin; there was no laughter in his tone this time. "_You_ kissed _me--"_

Melina abruptly pushed herself off the wall, spinning away from the Charismatic Enigma. "I don't have time for this," she remarked. She kept her gaze averted; she wasn't sure what would happen if she met Jeff's eyes once again. "I have to get to gorilla."

She started down the hall, and had only gone a few steps when she heard Jeff's voice behind her once again. "If all else fails, princess, you could always just do what you do best."

At this, the Dominant Diva glanced back over her shoulder, her expression questioning. "And what's that?" she asked cautiously.

Jeff shrugged, his countenance once more full of sardonic amusement. "Cheat."

For a moment, Melina didn't react. Then, her dark eyes narrowed, her pretty face twisting into one of profound disdain. Tossing her red-brown curls back over her shoulder, she strode down the hall, her hips twitching bewitchingly from side to side.

Jeff watched her leave, his mouth still curled in a wry smile. "Good luck!" he added.

The paparazzi princess never turned around.

* * *

_1...2..._

With what felt like an extreme effort, Melina wrenched her shoulder off the canvas, breaking the referee's count. Above her, Torrie let out a little grunt of irritation, but instead of arguing, merely grabbed two handfuls of the other Diva's hair, hauling her ungraciously to her feet. Melina pawed weakly at her, trying to break her grip. Torrie had no sooner let go of her hair, however, then she grabbed the paparazzi princess's arm, Irish-whipping her into the corner. Melina's spine connected painfully with the unyielding turnbuckle post, and she felt all the breath WHOOSH out of her lungs.

As the Dominant Diva sagged against the ropes, attempting to will oxygen back into her body, she wondered vaguely how everything could have gone so wrong so quickly. To begin with, Torrie was proving to be a lot tougher than she'd anticipated--apparently, she'd picked up a move or two in all those months she'd hung around with Victoria.

Second, she had learned once she'd gotten in the ring that the bout had been changed to a Lumberjack match--or a Lumber_jill_ match, if you wanted to be gender correct. There were six other Divas surrounding the ring, all of them participants in that Extreme Strip Poker nonsense taking place tomorrow night. Melina had ignored them at first--she wasn't intimidated by a horde of useless eye candy--but then she had heard that familiar _Holla holla_, followed by Lillian Garcia's voice ("Representing ECW: _Kelly Kelly_!"), and the paparazzi princess had paused, her attention glued to the petite blond prancing down the ramp, clad in a mint green top and skirt that barely covered anything at all.

The bell had rung, but Melina's focus had still been on ECW's exhibitionist, which proved to be a mistake--Torrie had wasted no time taking her down with a couple of arm drags. After the third one, Melina had rolled outside the ring to take a breather--an even _bigger_ mistake, as she quickly learned when Candice Michelle grabbed her by the hair and threw her back into the squared circle.

In a sense, she wasn't wrestling a normal bout; right now, she was pretty much in a handicap match. Torrie on the inside, Torrie's friends on the outside--and at this moment, the Boise Belle was kicking her ass. If the Dominant Diva didn't find some way to build momentum, and _soon_, her time in the tournament was going to end here, tonight.

Melina quickly shook her head, and as though by magic, her vision cleared. She looked up to see Torrie rushing toward her, arm outstretched to deliver a running clothesline. More out of instinct than strategy, Melina brought up both of her booted feet, catching the blond Diva right in the gut. Torrie staggered back. Pushing herself out of the corner, Melina reached out and grabbed hold of the Boise Belle's long golden tresses with both hands, lifting her bodily off the mat and throwing her face-down onto the canvas. Torrie hit hard and didn't move. Immediately, Melina dropped down beside her, grabbing her leg and hooking it for the pin.

_1...2..._

The paparazzi princess screamed in frustration as Torrie's shoulder shot off the mat. Her expression warping into one of annoyed determination, Melina got to her feet, grabbing Torrie by the hair and pulling her up as well. As she did so, her eyes locked onto the diminutive form of Kelly Kelly at ringside. The two Divas' gazes met, held--and although she couldn't be sure, she thought she saw the corners of Kelly's mouth curve upward in a satisfied smile.

The Dominant Diva hesitated, an all-too-familiar high-pitched voice chirping in her ears, one of the handful of sensations she'd managed to salvage from that drunken night several weeks ago...

_Sure thing, Johnny!....After all, I AM an exhibitionist..._

Melina abruptly dropped to one knee, the breath leaving her body in an agonized gasp as Torrie's boot caught her in the gut. The Boise Belle grabbed her by the neck, twisting both of them around and down onto the mat in a neckbreaker. Referee Marty Elias quickly dropped down, slamming his hand against the canvas.

_1...2..._

Melina stretched her hand up, reaching toward the blinding lights above her, lifting her shoulder off the canvas. A collective disappointed wail emanated from the Divas surrounding the ring. The paparazzi princess had to bite back the smile that rose to her lips. _Sorry to disappoint all of you, bitches..._she thought to herself.

Torrie impatiently pulled the Dominant Diva to her feet, Irish-whipping her toward the ropes. Melina quickly reversed the momentum, swinging the Boise Belle toward them instead. Torrie hit the ropes, but instead of bouncing back toward the center, stumbled and almost fell to her knees. The blond Diva reached over the ropes, exchanging harsh words with someone on the floor. Melina quickly spotted the source of her ire: SmackDown Diva Kristal, who had finally decided to get with the program and show off her heel stripes. As the paparazzi princess watched, Torrie launched her lower body through the ropes, catching Kristal in the jaw with a low mule kick.

Melina immediately saw her opportunity. Running over, she locked her arms around Torrie's waist, somersaulting both of them over backward, and rolling Torrie up in a pin. She could hear the referee behind her, dropping down to the mat, and for good measure, grabbed a handful of the Boise Belle's pink boy shorts, disregarding the loud protests of the 'Jills at ringside.

_1...2...3..._

Melina leaped up, quickly backing away from Torrie. The blond Diva had popped back up into a sitting position, her mouth a perfect "O" of surprise. The Dominant Diva rolled out of the ring, circling cautiously around the flock of eye candy Divas gathered at ringside.

Incredibly enough, not one of them was paying attention to her; they were all too focused on grabbing Kristal and throwing her into the ring, where Torrie would no doubt make her pay for her treachery. Melina trudged up the ramp, clutching her sore abdomen, the shrill guitar wail of her and Nitro's theme music blaring in her ears.

Even though she had won the match, even though her victory had earned her a spot in the semifinals of the tournament for the Women's Championship, Melina felt nothing but a deadening numbness. No one had supported her out there--not the fans, not the other Divas at ringside--hell, Kristal had probably just tripped up Torrie because it was what was expected of her. And in the end, who were they attacking? Kristal. She had won the match, had _cheated_ to win the match--and they had responded by punishing Kristal.

She was the winner--and no one cared. As far as anyone else out there was concerned, she was still JAD.

The paparazzi princess bit back a grimace of pain, telling herself that it didn't matter, that none of them mattered, that the only thing that counted was the victory...all the while wondering when she would actually start believing it.

* * *

Gorilla was crowded; as usual, Melina had to elbow her way through a mob of Superstars, road agents, and backstage personnel before she even glimpsed the hallway. As she reached the mouth of the corridor, she paused, her attention captivated by a lean figure standing silently off to the side.

Jeff smiled, his expression full of its customary bitter amusement. For a few moments, neither one of them spoke. Then, the Charismatic Enigma nodded once in her direction, putting his hands together in a slow show of applause. "Congratulations, princess."

Melina said nothing; only advanced toward him. She halted just before their bodies could touch, tilting her face up toward his. Jeff felt his smile fade. He could feel the heat rising off her body, could smell the scent coming off of her skin, and just standing here, in her presence, was intoxicating. Melina leaned closer, and for one heart-stopping instant, the younger Hardy brother was sure that she was going to kiss him, but the Dominant Diva merely replied: "Thanks,"

"You're welcome," Jeff whispered, the words almost catching in his throat. Instead of walking away, however, Melina continued to stare at him. Her expression was unreadable, and there was something about the intensity of her gaze that was unsettling. It was as though she was challenging him, determined to locate something in his face or in his voice that would satisfy her.

Jeff leaned down a little, halving the distance between them even more. He heard a soft gasp, and realized that it had come from Melina. Looking into her eyes, he saw confusion in there.

Confusion...and yearning.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior reached up, touched her face, cupping her cheek against his palm. "Melina..." he murmured.

For a moment, he saw her eyes drift closed, saw her lean into his touch--and then she was pulling away, words tumbling out of her mouth almost too fast for him to understand. "Johnny's on the warpath tonight." Her dark eyes lifted, fastened onto his. "During your match--watch out for him."

Jeff was so stunned that for several seconds, he couldn't do anything except stand there and blink. "Thanks--" he started to reply, but the paparazzi princess was already walking away, her mane of reddish-brown curls tumbling down her back, walking past a pair of headset-clad technicians, disappearing from his view.

The Charismatic Enigma was too busy watching her departure; he never noticed the diminutive figure that was standing only a few feet away, an unwilling witness to the exchange between him and the Dominant Diva. Maria slowly reached up, her fingers playing absently at the chunky necklace adorning her neck, a troubled expression marring her beautiful face.


	15. Chapter 15: Brotherly Advice

**A/N: NEW CHAPTER! I got this one out quicker than I was expecting, so yay me! I'm happier with it than I was with the last one, but what I really care about is that all of you enjoy it. So...enjoy! Peace!**

**Thank you to **extremist, m-yaz, i luv hardy, Esha Napoleon, Lucy Grayson, nightmarelover, BigRedMachineUK, hardyluv, bubba, xxxMusicPassionxxx, **and **briii **for reviewing the last chapter! Love yas!

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Chapter 15: Brotherly Advice

Matt tugged the long-sleeved t-shirt over his head, slipping his arms through the sleeves. He hadn't been booked in a match for tonight's SmackDown taping, so rather than spend the next two hours sitting around in his wrestling gear, the elder Hardy brother had opted to change back into his street clothes.

Pulling the hem of the shirt down to his waist, Matt jumped as a harsh buzzing sound emanated from the top shelf of his cubbyhole, startling him. It took him a second or two to realize that it was coming from his cell phone, vibrating loudly as it skittered across the wood. The elder Hardy brother snatched it up, flipping it open and holding it to his ear, jamming his finger into his other ear so he could hear better. "Hello?"

"Matt?" At first, the feminine voice on the other end sounded completely unfamiliar; it took Matt a few moments before he was able to comprehend who it was.

"Maria?" The elder Hardy brother felt a slow grin slip across his face. "Hey, Miss K, what's up?"

Raw's backstage reporter said something in reply, but Matt couldn't make it out; he could barely hear anything over the usual locker room din. The elder Hardy brother sighed impatiently. "Hold on a sec, 'Ria." Putting his hand over the phone's speaker, he cast a glare at the room's other occupants. "Hey! Douchebags! Keep it down--I'm on the _phone _over here!"

His directive did nothing to bring the volume down; if anything, the noise only got louder. Rolling his eyes, Matt walked over to the door, pulling it open and sidling out into the hall. That accomplished, he lifted the phone back up to his ear again. "Sorry about that--they're good guys, but they can be a bunch of assholes sometimes." He paused for a second. "So...what's up?"

"Oh, nothing much." For a moment, Matt wondered why Maria's voice seemed so strange, and then it hit him: this was the first time he'd heard Raw's backstage reporter sound like anything other than her usual bubbly effervescent self. She sounded..._pensive_, almost. More than pensive--_sad_.

Matt frowned. "'Ria? What's wrong?"

He heard a soft sigh on the other end of the line. "I don't know; it's just..." She hesitated, and Matt could practically hear her summoning up the courage to voice her thoughts. "It's...Jeff."

The elder Hardy brother rolled his eyes a second time. "What's my little brother done now?" he asked, half-joking.

"Nothing..." Maria replied, and the melancholy in her tone was enough to drain away Matt's amusement. "At least...I _think_ it's nothing..." Another pause. He heard her take a deep breath. "Matt...I want to know--Jeff's past girlfriends...." A long moment of silence. "Did he..._cheat_...on any of them?"

Matt blinked, so surprised by the question that he was literally struck speechless. "W-what?" he finally managed to stammer. "No! Never! I mean, don't get me wrong, Jeff's fucked up before--but he's not _that_ kind of fuck-up!" Now it was the elder Hardy brother's turn to hesitate. "'Ria...why are you asking?" As he said it, however, he was already bracing himself mentally, somehow already knowing what her answer was going to be.

There was another long silence on the other end of the phone, and when Maria spoke again, her voice was husky, as though she was on the verge of tears. "_Because I think Jeff might be cheating on me_."

Matt slumped against the wall, stunned, slowly sinking down into a sitting position. He swallowed hard. "Start at the beginning."

* * *

Jeff lay on his couch, headphones over his ears, eyes closed as loud rock music pounded through his head. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior's head bobbed, unconsciously keeping time with the song's frantic beat, but deep within the confines of his skull, his thoughts were not on the song, or even the music.

Instead, they were on the one thing that he couldn't make sense out of; the one woman that he despised--yet somehow wanted more than anything.

_Melina_.

Even after more than a week, the memory of that passionate kiss they'd shared hadn't abated--if anything, his recollections of that event had only intensified. It had gotten to the point where he could barely think about it--Melina's lips, her skin, the soft curves of her body--without feeling weak...but at the same time, it was the only thing that he _could_ think about.

It was irrational, it was completely insane--and yet there was something about its insanity that made sense. He couldn't stand the paparazzi princess...but yet, whenever he was around her, it felt like he was burning up on the inside, and the closer he got, the hotter the fire burned.

And when he touched her...that was when it burned brightest of all, but at the same time, he felt relief as well, as the heat inside him was somehow abated. Melina...she was both the symptom and the cure, the thirst and the cool water that quenched it. She was the source of his desire--and the only thing that would satisfy it.

But that relief would never come...because they could never be together.

Because he had a girlfriend and she had a boyfriend.

Because they came from two different worlds.

Because they were, and always would be..._enemies_.

Jeff shifted a little, trying desperately, but ultimately unable to banish Melina's voice from his mind..

_Did you enjoy that?_

His own whispered reply...

_Yeah..._

Her final remark, the cool neutrality of her voice almost succeeding in masking the yearning lurking at the edges of her words...

_Good...because this...will never happen again..._

The younger Hardy brother groaned softly, powerless to prevent those five words from echoing over and over again--

_ This..._

_ ...will never happen..._

_ ...again..._

Jeff's green eyes flew open and his disappointed groan became a squawk of surprise as his headphones were abruptly yanked off his ears. The Charismatic Enigma sat up, clawing at the air, almost falling off the couch in the process--then stopped when he saw the familiar face of his older brother staring down at him.

Matt cocked his head to the side, looking at his younger sibling with bemusement. "Sorry...did I wake you?"

Jeff glared at him. "Nice going, douchebag--you scared the shit out of me." He glanced behind his older brother in the direction of the entrance foyer. "You breaking into my house now?"

Matt cast a quick glance over his shoulder before turning his attention back to his younger sibling. "Yeah, it's real easy--especially when you don't lock your door." Without waiting for an invitation, he vaulted over the top of the couch, landing on the cushion with practiced ease. Jeff quickly pulled his legs out of harm's way, pushing his lean frame up into a sitting position.

The two brothers sat there in silence for a minute or so, before Matt turned to look at Jeff. The smile was gone from his face. "I wanted to talk to you." He hesitated, and Jeff noticed an expression of intense concentration pass across his features, as though he was steeling himself for what he had to say. The elder Hardy brother continued. "Maria called me yesterday."

Jeff frowned, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Okay..." he replied warily, wondering where his brother was going with this.

Matt stared steadily at him, his dark eyes narrowing just a bit. "Are you cheating on her?"

The query was so sudden, so completely and totally unexpected, that it snatched all the air from Jeff's lungs and he broke into a fit of coughing. "_What_?" the Rainbow-Haired Warrior gasped, his face turning bright red as he struggled to pull oxygen back into his body. "_No_! Jesus, no!"

Matt's countenance didn't change. "Are you _sure_?" the elder Hardy brother pressed. "There's nothing going on between you and another Diva? Between you and--oh, say--" His gaze bore into Jeff's. "--_Melina_?"

At this, the Charismatic Enigma froze, the ruddy hue draining from his face. Slowly, he straightened up, still choking back a stifled cough or two. "Shit--" he muttered.

Matt pointed at him. "_Talk. Now._"

Jeff ducked his head, no longer able to meet his brother's gaze. "Nothing happened!" the younger Hardy brother insisted. His voice, however, sounded unconvincing in his own ears, and he could feel the weight of Matt's stare pressing against his skin. There was an awkward pause. "Okay...we...we kinda made out....once...." An even more awkward pause. "...twice..."

Matt eyed him for a second, and then without warning, reared back and punched his brother in the shoulder. _Hard_. Jeff yelped, clutching his arm, pain already ricocheting up and down the appendage. "Ow!" the Rainbow-Haired Warrior protested. "What was _that_ for?"

"What do you _think_ it was for?" the elder Hardy brother shot back. He ran his hands impatiently through his curly dark locks. "_Jesus_, Jeff--Melina! Of all people--" Matt broke off the thought, pausing to take a few deep breaths as he struggled to regain his composure. It was clear that he was only a few degrees removed from furious. Matt pointed at his younger sibling, shaking his finger as though Jeff was a disobedient puppy who had just made a mess on the carpet. "I _knew_ it! I _knew_ something was up when Maria told that story--that paint shit could have only come from you! That look on your face--you wouldn't have looked so uncomfortable if nothing had happened! You would have been telling that story all during fucking dinner!"

Matt broke off for an instant, his dark eyes narrowing even more. "Did you sleep with her?"

Jeff's emerald irises widened and he almost burst into another fit of coughing. "What? _No_!"

"Do you want to?" Matt was relentless.

The Charismatic Enigma hesitated. "I--" He yelped again as Matt's fist connected painfully with his shoulder, even harder this time. Jeff glared at his brother, edging away from him as far as the couch would allow him. "_Fuck_! Would you _stop hitting me_?"

Matt tensed, then gradually lowered his hand back down to his side. The younger Hardy brother sighed, covering his face with his hands. "I don't know what's going on," he finally admitted, his voice muffled. Lowering his hands, he looked back over at his brother, the expression on his face almost pleading. "I don't get it--when we're out in the ring, and even when we're backstage, we're at each other's throats--but at the same time..."

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior hesitated. "...she's all I can think about. I know it's wrong, but...I...I just can't stop. I don't know how to explain it--it's like...like it hurts...inside..." He touched his chest as he spoke, resting his fingers on the spot over his heart. "...whenever she's gone--but whenever I get near her or close to her...it...it hurts less...and I feel..." He trailed off, looking helplessly at his brother for clarification.

Matt seemed unmoved by his younger sibling's unexpected display of eloquence. He stared at the Charismatic Enigma for a second or two, his expression impassive, before he finally sighed, his body sagging a little bit. He stared off into the distance, his lips barely moving as he spoke. "I'm going to tell you something," the elder Hardy brother eventually began. "And it's going to be something you won't want to hear." He looked back, locking eyes with his brother once again. "I'm going to give you a little brotherly advice."

Even though he knew he was already in hot water, Jeff couldn't prevent himself from rolling his eyes. Matt must have noticed it, because he kept talking, his voice growing louder and more rapid in order to drown out any potential interruptions. "I've always tried to stay out of your life, all right? I know that you've made some bad choices, and there have been times when things have gotten strained between us--but I've always let you do your own thing."

Matt paused, pointing at the space between them on the couch, as though the situation was an actual tangible presence. "But _this_..._this _is different. _This_ is one instance where you can't do whatever the hell you want. For once, it's not all about you, bro--there are other people involved now, too."

He stopped, eying his younger sibling critically. "Have you even _thought_ about what you're doing to Maria? I mean, dude--" The elder Hardy brother gestured in the air with both hands. "--she called me because she thinks you're _cheating_ on her!"

"I'm _not_!" Jeff protested, but Matt was already waving the objection away.

"Oh, you're _not_?" The elder Hardy brother raised one eyebrow. "Making out with Johnny Nitro's girlfriend--_that_'s not cheating? Speaking of which--have you given any thought to what'll happen if that pretty-boy ever finds out--"

"He's cheating on her," Jeff interrupted dully. At this, both of Matt's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he said nothing. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior continued, averting his gaze. "He doesn't give a damn about her--he's too busy fucking other women."

"Uh-huh," Matt grunted, sounding unimpressed. "And how is that any of _your_ problem?" When his question received no response, he added: "How is it any different from what you're doing to Maria?"

Jeff's head shot up, his green eyes growing wide. He had never thought about it that way.

The elder Hardy brother sighed, sounding both tired and exasperated. "Look, bro, I love you, but I've _never_ understood why you have to do things the hard way--why it's always 'my way and everyone else can suck it' with you. I mean...Maria...she's funny, cool, sexy, sweet--she _adores_ you, and you're going to risk it all just so you can fool around with the bitchy girl that no one likes?"

Matt shook his head. "And as for Melina...I don't know what's going on with her, but trust me on this, bro--whatever you're feeling for her is definitely _not_ mutual. That chick doesn't know _how_ to feel, _period_."

Jeff opened his mouth to protest, but the elder Hardy brother was already getting to his feet, still talking: "I'm not going to tell you what to do--if I did, you wouldn't listen to me, anyway. But either way...it's decision time, Jeffro, because you can't have it both ways. Besides..."

Matt paused, staring down at his brother. "From where I'm standing...it doesn't look like that hard of a choice in the first place."

Without offering a good-bye, the elder Hardy brother headed for the door. Jeff remained where he was; it wasn't until he heard the front door slam that he relaxed, slumping back against the couch, his breath escaping him in a long sigh.

Matt was right, all course: he _couldn't_ have it both ways. As long as he remained in this indecisive limbo, he was only increasing his chances of getting hurt--as well as hurting someone else. He had to make a choice--and _soon_.

Jeff slumped forward, hanging his head between his knees. "What the hell do I do _now_?" he murmured to the empty room.

* * *

By the time the Rainbow-Haired Warrior arrived in Reno, Nevada three days later for the first house show of the week, his stomach had compressed into a small hard ball of anticipation. It got so bad that as soon as he pulled into the parking garage of the Events Center, Jeff had to stop and rest his head on the steering wheel, inhaling deep breath after deep breath in an attempt to dispel the lightheaded feeling engulfing him.

It didn't make any sense; he was used to diving off ladders and crashing through tables without so much as a care--but for some reason, the thought of this impending conversation, this choice he was going to make, filled him with more fear than he had ever felt in the whole of his existence.

For one of the very few times in his adult life, Jeff Hardy was scared--and he didn't much care for the feeling.

_I have to do this..._the Charismatic Enigma told himself silently. _For once, I have to listen to Matt--because he's right; it's not all about me this time. If I keep going like this, if I keep ignoring what's going on, then I'm only going to break her heart..._

_ But whose heart?..._the insidious little inner voice murmured in his ear. _The girl you have...or the girl you want_?...

"Shut up," Jeff muttered through gritted teeth. He sat up, leaning back against the headrest. "Maybe I want to do the right thing for a change. Maybe I'm _tired_ of _always_ being the _fuck-up_!"

The voice was silent for a moment, but just as Jeff began to believe that it had gone, it uttered one last biting remark in a tone of vicious amusement: _Funny, Jeffro, you love to fly...but yet, you're so afraid of falling..._ And then it was gone, vanishing into the depths of his subconscious, awaiting the time until it would reemerge to fill him with even more self-doubt.

Jeff's face twisted briefly in anger, and he punched the steering wheel. "Shut up," he whispered. But the voice was gone, and somehow, its absence was even more obnoxious that its presence. The younger Hardy brother punched the wheel even harder. "_Shut up_!"

For a moment, the interior of the car seemed to close in on him, and the Rainbow-Haired Warrior had a dizzying flash of claustrophobia. Wrenching the door open, he burst out of the small sedan, slamming it shut behind him. Panting for breath, he reached up, pushing his multi-colored hair back with both hands.

Other voices were in his head now, overlapping and blurring together. Matt's voice...

_You're risking it all just so you can fool around with the bitchy girl?..._

Maria's voice...

_I just want to know now, before I get my heart broken..._

And interwoven with them both, the husky murmur of the Dominant Diva...

_This...will never happen again..._

"Stop..." the Charismatic Enigma whispered, covering his ears with both hands. "Please...stop..." For a moment, the voices almost overwhelmed him--and then in the next, they were gone, as though they had never existed in the first place. Jeff looked around hesitantly, his arms dropping back down to his sides. The parking garage was far from quiet, but compared to the cacophony that had just been raging inside his head, its familiar din was like the soothing chill of ice held to an aching muscle.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior drew in a deep breath, and then let it out slowly. He couldn't go back. Once he did this, he could never go back--he just had to keep telling himself that. Jeff didn't even bother to go around to the trunk and retrieve his suitcase. He had to get this over with--because the longer he waited, the greater the chance he would lose his nerve.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, the younger Hardy brother moved out from the row of cars into the main thoroughfare of the garage. As he did so, he spotted two familiar figures only a few yards away, and his heart immediately leapt into his throat, almost choking him.

Maria was talking with Mickie James, her pretty face bright and animated, her slender fingers moving in the air as she gestured for emphasis. Jeff approached the pair slowly, unwilling to interrupt their conversation, but knowing that he had no other option--it was now or never. As he drew nearer, Mickie's brown eyes shifted to the side, spotting him. Her face immediately sobered, and she elbowed Maria. The backstage reporter turned, her features assuming a similar sober cast when she saw the Charismatic Enigma strolling toward her.

Jeff reached the duo and stopped, shifting his weight on the balls of his feet. He grinned awkwardly, hoping that it didn't look like a grimace. "Hey, ladies," he ventured hesitantly.

The two Diva quickly exchanged a look, one that spoke more eloquently that words ever could. Mickie abruptly cleared her throat, hoisting her oversized bag further up onto her shoulder. "I should...get going," the brunette Diva finally said, shooting another knowing glance in Maria's direction. "Talk to you later, 'Ria." She offered a curt nod in Jeff's direction before turning and departing.

Leaving Maria and Jeff alone with one another.

The two of them stood there for a few moments, shuffling their feet, looking everywhere but at each other. "Hey," the younger Hardy brother ventured.

"Hey," Maria echoed softly, biting her full lower lip.

Another long lapse of silence passed between them before the Rainbow-Haired Warrior abruptly cleared his throat. "Listen, Maria..."

At this, the backstage reporter's head shot up, and her Barbie doll-like face assumed a countenance of petrified horror, like a deer caught in the headlights. She clasped her hands together, her slim fingers interweaving. Her lips were trembling.

_Oh my God..._the Charismatic Enigma thought to himself with a kind of wonder. _She thinks I'm going to break up with her...._But what Jeff said instead was: "'Ria...I'm sorry."

At this, Maria flinched a little, but said nothing, probably thinking that the worst was still to come. The younger Hardy brother went on, the words becoming almost unintelligible as they flowed out of him. "I'm sorry...for making you think that I was...you know..." He trailed off for a moment, unable to voice the accusation. "I'm not that kind of guy, okay? I've fucked up a lot--but not like that--and I never wanted to make you think that I'm...like that. Whatever you saw--"

Jeff hesitated for a moment, his mind skipping back to over a week ago, to the feeling of Melina's body molded against his. "--whatever you saw...it's nothing--and it's never going to happen again." Another pause. "I promise."

For several long moments, the backstage reporter didn't say anything--then, gradually, she stirred, stepping forward and peering up into Jeff's emerald irises. "So there's _nothing_ going on?" Maria asked, her voice filled with a tentative wariness.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior shook his head. "_Nothing_. I _swear."_

"You _promise?_" An insistent note momentarily crept into Maria's voice, revealing a glimpse of the steel that existed underneath, reminding Jeff that the backstage reporter might be sweet and bubbly--but she was far from weak.

Jeff slowly reached, taking her hand, holding it between both of his. "I promise," the younger Hardy brother whispered. Lifting her hand up to his lips, he gently kissed her fingertips.

As he did so, he allowed himself one final foray into his memories, one final recollection of Melina's lips, her scent, her taste--one last chance to remember before he had to forget.

At this, Maria finally smiled and the warmth of it seemed to light the space. "Okay, then." she murmured. Jeff returned the smile, and moving closer to her, bent down, sealing her mouth with his.

Even as he felt the kiss intensify, as he felt Maria's arms entwine around his neck, even as he wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her against him, Jeff couldn't shake the deeply rooted instinct that he was making a mistake, that despite his best intentions--his actions were going to come back to bite him in the ass.

He never saw the diminutive figure standing in the corridor less than a hundred yards away, watching the two of them embrace one another. He never saw her reach up, tucking back her hair with a slow deliberate movement, before turning and disappearing out of sight down the hallway.

* * *

Melina strode down the corridor, her reddish-brown curls streaming out behind her. Her whole body was stiff, her hands clenched into fists at her side. Her face in particular was a tight expressionless mask--but already she could feel emotion eating away at it, threatening to crack it open at any moment, sending her true feelings spilling on onto the cement floor for the whole world to see.

Her apathy and newfound fear toward Johnny.

The confused miasma of dislike and yearning she felt for Jeff Hardy.

And the intense jealousy that she felt seeing the him and Maria Kanellis together--a feeling, despite her best efforts, was right now chewing away at her heart.

Up ahead of her was a restroom. Without pausing in her stride, the paparazzi princess kicked the door open, storming into the space before it even hit the opposing wall. Moving down the row of stalls, she selected the largest one on the far end, stepping inside and locking the door behind her. Walking slowly over to the far side, she slumped against the wall, sliding down to the floor.

Tears pooled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks, but the Dominant Diva still refused to relinquish herself totally to her anguish. There had used to be a time when she had control over everything, including her own emotions--but now, everything was falling apart. Johnny had betrayed her, the rest of the roster was laughing at her behind her back, and the one person who cared was the one person she was supposed to have nothing to do with.

But now he was gone, too, wasn't he? In the end, even Jeff Hardy had abandoned her, preferring to make out with his clueless bimbo of a girlfriend than pay any further attention to her.

What had she expected, though? That she and Jeff would play this little love/hate game of theirs forever? That they would continue to dance around each other, indulging in, but never yielding to, their mutual desire? Sooner or later, she had to accept the fact that despite what had happened between them last week, despite all the moments they had shared in the past, their existences simply did not involve one another.

They had nothing in common.

They didn't belong together.

So then...why did his absence fill her with the most profound unhappiness?

Melina bit her lip, filling her mouth with the sharp coppery tang of blood. "He never should have come back," the Dominant Diva whispered to herself. She drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms tight around them. "I was so much happier without him--"

_No, Melina..._the little voice inside her interjected quietly. _If anything...he made you realize that you never were..._

The paparazzi princess's features crumbled in misery, and burying her face in her hands, she finally allowed herself to cry.


	16. Chapter 16: You Don't Need Him

**A/N: NEW CHAPTER! I've been kind of bad; I usually update my other stories first, but I couldn't get this chapter out of my head, and plus, I'm heading into a busy couple of weeks, and I wanted to get this out before the madness hit. I hope that you enjoy it! Peace!**

**Thank you to **Esha Napoleon, darkangelmel, extremist, m-yaz, Lucy Grayson, i luv hardy, Syco's Path, hardyluv, **and **bubbs **for reviewing the last chapter! You're all AWESOME! Love yas!

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Chapter 16: You Don't Need Him

Nitro let out a low sigh of contentment, reclining back against the pillow and closing his eyes. Stretching his legs out, he crossed one ankle over the other. A slow grin slipped across the face of the self-proclaimed A-lister. Despite the fact that even after two weeks, he still had yet to reclaim the Intercontinental Championship, just the thought of _her_ was enough to distract him from his present woes. Her long blond hair, those big blue eyes--not to mention that rocking body...

In short, he couldn't stop thinking about Kelly Kelly.

Nitro stopped for a moment, casting a cautious glance in the direction of the closed bathroom door before allowing his ruminations to continue. He knew that he was playing a dangerous game with the ECW Diva, but the former Intercontinental Champion just couldn't help himself. Their hookup after Unforgiven had been so _hot_--he never would have imagined that someone so young could possess so much..._experience_--and ever since that night, he had been racking his brain, trying to figure out some way to make a surprise detour to the Land of Extreme without raising too much suspicion.

It wasn't an easy task--the last thing he wanted to do was run afoul of Mike Knox, that serial-killer-in-training that Kelly was dating. Why was it always the hot girls who had nine-foot-tall sociopaths for boyfriends? Besides, if Melina ever found out about him and ECW's resident exhibitionist, there was a good chance that the Dominant Diva would cut his balls off with a dull butter knife. Perhaps the one thing he could be grateful for was that the paparazzi princess, as uber-controlling as she was, had never been vigilant about checking her boyfriend's phone for evidence of infidelity. Good thing, too; if she had, she'd find numerous texts and more than a few incriminating pictures--enough proof to keep him in the doghouse for _life_.

Nitro glanced toward the bathroom again. The faint sounds of water running emanated through the closed door. For the briefest of seconds, the self-proclaimed A-lister felt a twinge of guilty remorse. Melina was the only person that he trusted, the one individual that he knew he could rely on--if she ever found out about his..._extracurricular activities_ with Kelly--it would devastate her.

In the next instant, though, the feeling passed, and the former Intercontinental Champion quickly shook his head. It wasn't _his_ fault that women found him so damn irresistible. Besides, Kelly might not possess much in the intelligence department, but she more than made up for it in personality, energy, and above all, _enthusiasm_--all things that Melina had been lacking in as of late.

The bathroom door opened, and Nitro quickly forced himself back to the present. He stretched, arching his arms up and lacing his fingers together behind his head, grinning suggestively at his girlfriend as she stepped out into the main room. "Hey, baby, what took you so long?"

Melina seemed lost in her own little world; she actually jumped a little in surprise when he spoke, as though she had completely forgotten his presence. "What? Oh, nothing...just thinking."

The self-proclaimed A-lister's smile drooped a touch. "What's wrong, Mel?" he asked, making sure to put more concern into his voice than he actually felt. "You feeling all right?"

The paparazzi princess shook her head. "I'm fine," she replied. Reaching up, she ran a hand through her mane of reddish-brown curls. "I"m just tired, that's all."

Nitro's smile remained frozen in place; it was only with effort that he was able to bite back the groan of annoyance that rose in his throat. Whenever Melina said that she was tired, it pretty much guaranteed that _he_ wasn't going to get any. Normally, he would have chalked it up as just another one of those weird hormonal phases that women go through--but in this case, Melina's mood swings had been happening more and more frequently.

Something was bothering her--something that he couldn't figure out--and whatever it was, it was draining the personality and the fire right out of her, leaving behind a pale shadow of the real thing; a moody introverted individual who only bore a physical resemblance to the Dominant Diva he had once fallen for.

At first, he had thought that her morose disposition had been a result of his loss of the Intercontinental Championship--even back in their MNM days, Melina had never taken title losses well. But if _that_ was the case, why wasn't she busting her ass to get his title back? Two weeks, and he _still _hadn't gotten his rematch--he'd even been left out of the Fatal Four-Way match for the title on tonight's Raw broadcast; the other three spots going to Shelton Benjamin, Chris Masters, and Super Crazy, of all people.

Melina was much more than his _girlfriend_--she was also his _manager_; it was her _job_ to ensure his placement in championship matches. So why then, after two weeks, was the self-proclaimed A-lister still title-less?

For a moment, Nitro entertained the horrifying notion that Melina had actually found out about him and Kelly. But in the next, he ultimately dismissed it--he and Kelly had been very _very_ careful; the ECW Diva didn't want her boyfriend finding out about the two of them any more than he wanted Melina to.

Nitro felt the mattress give as Melina climbed onto it, peeling back the covers and slipping beneath them. Reaching up, she switched off the bedside lamp, throwing the room into darkness. Johnny tensed, bracing himself for the obligatory cuddling session; the PG-rated kisses and caresses that stayed above clothing and above the waist. But instead, the paparazzi princess surprised him by curling up on the far edge of the bed, away from him, her back to him.

Nitro stared at her for several long seconds, frowning, bewildered by this unexpected rejection. After a while, however, he shrugged, rolling over onto his side, his puzzlement soon giving way to fantasies of ECW's resident exhibitionist.

As he lay there, imagining him and Kelly on a deserted tropical beach somewhere, he had no way of knowing that--just like him--his girlfriend's dreams were full of someone else...

* * *

Melina strode down the hall, reaching up to adjust the edges of her leopard-print ring attire. Even though she was securely taped into her top, it never hurt to check--the last thing she wanted was to have a wardrobe malfunction end up on YouTube, especially during a match as big as this.

In a little while, she would face off against Mickie James in a semi-final match for the Women's Championship. The victor of the bout would have a guaranteed spot in the title match at Cyber Sunday in less than two weeks. For the Dominant Diva, this was her opportunity to prove to the roster, and to that psycho bitch Mickie in particular, that she was much more than just a glorified trophy girlfriend.

Doing so wouldn't be easy, however. Mickie might need to up her lithium dosage, but she had also succeeded where Melina had once failed--beating Trish Stratus for the championship. She had competed and won against the best, and it was no secret that Mickie had been itching for another title opportunity since losing the belt back in August.

Unfortunately, there was only room for two Divas in that Cyber Sunday match--and Mickie was not going to be one of them, not if the paparazzi princess had anything to say about it. Of all the Divas that had given her attitude since she had come to Raw, the former Women's Champion had been always been one of the worst--in some ways, this bout was more about clipping Mickie's wings than it was about the title.

However, despite her impending match--and the opportunity she would have to take the bipolar Ms. James down a peg or two--Melina just couldn't bring herself to care. This was one of the biggest matches of her career, and yet the Dominant Diva couldn't summon up anything more than a faint ghost of anticipation.

It wasn't just tonight--she had been walking through life in a state of chilling numbness for the past week or so. It was as though a thick heavy blanket had been dropped down over her emotions, deadening her to the point of insensitivity. And she didn't know which was more terrifying: the total absence of all feeling--or her complete indifference toward it.

She couldn't feel..._anything_...anymore--no, wait, that wasn't true. There were moments when sensation would return to her, when she could once again feel her heart beating within her chest--and that was every time she saw Jeff Hardy. Whenever she glimpsed him in the hallways or saw him in the ring, the bottom of her stomach would drop out, and she would experience this acute rush of vertigo, as though she was hurtling toward the ground at a high rate of speed--she could almost feel the wind whipping past her face.

_Are we ever going to talk_?...That was what the Charismatic Enigma had said to her, one of the _last_ things he had said to her. They never had--and now, they never would, because whenever Melina spotted the younger Hardy brother, he always seem to be in the company of that bimbo Maria, her hand latched onto his arm, her green eyes glued adoringly to his face.

And whenever that happened, the blanket would drop back down over Melina, dulling all feeling once again, and it would be a struggle just putting one foot in front of the other, or stretching her lips back from her teeth in a smile. She felt nothing--and yet at the same time, it hurt worse than anything she had ever experienced, as though a wild animal was tearing her insides to pieces.

The paparazzi princess blinked, returning herself to the present with a nearly audible SNAP. She was nearing the dressing room that she shared with Johnny; she could even hear her boyfriend's voice, low and conversational. She was just about to round the corner and greet him when another voice assaulted her ears; a high-pitched feminine voice that she still heard in her sleep, drifting up out of the darkness of her subconscious:

"But I came here to see _you_, Johnny!"

Melina froze, paralyzed both by the voice and by its owner's use of the nickname, a nickname that only _she_ was allowed to use. For a moment, she actually felt her heart slow, and then stop within her chest. Slowly, barely able to breathe, on feet that could hardly feel the cement on which they were standing, the Dominant Diva sidled along the wall to the corner, pressing her face to the cinderblock and cautiously peering around the edge.

Almost immediately, shock slammed into her with all the icy discomfort of a bucket of cold water to the face. Just a few yards ahead of her, leaning against the doorframe of the dressing room, was Johnny--_her_ Johnny...and right in front of him, hands on her hips, a seductive smile on her face...was that ECW slut, Kelly Kelly.

As Melina watched, wanting to look away but unable to do so, the blond Diva pouted, thrusting her hip to the side. "I mean, don't you _want_ to see me?" she added, blinking her big eyes innocently.

At this, the former Intercontinental Champion cast a fearful look around. Melina instinctively drew back, but Johnny must not have noticed her presence, because he turned his attention back to Kelly. "Of _course_ I do! You _know_ I do!" the self-proclaimed A-lister insisted, his voice a loud whisper. Another tentative glance. "But--there are all these people around--and Mel could--"

"I don't care about _her_!" ECW's resident exhibitionist exclaimed. Grabbing hold of the lapels of Nitro's fur coat, she arched her body toward his. The black minidress she was wearing barely covered anything, Melina noted with some disgust; as she leaned toward Johnny, the hem of it was already starting to ride up her ass. "I care about _you_." Kelly finished, her tone dropping to a suggestive murmur. Letting go of his coat, she trailed her index finger down his chest, tracing the line of his pectoral.

In spite of her growing dissatisfaction with the former Intercontinental Champion, Melina felt a wave of possessive ire crash over her. The Dominant Diva swallowed hard, forcing bile back down her throat. The nerve of that little whore, to come on _her show_, hit on _her_ _boyfriend_, and act like she didn't even exist, like she didn't even _matter_... The audacity of it filled her with rage, hot boiling rage that scorched her insides.

Melina gripped the edge of the wall, her fingers curving into claws, her fingernails clicking softly against the porous painted surface. She wanted nothing more than to leave, to turn her back on this and pretend it had never happened, that _none_ of this had happened--but she couldn't. This hateful knowledge had already taken root inside her, poisoning her to the core, and she had no choice but to stand there and let it fester within her even more.

The paparazzi princess watched as Johnny pushed his designer sunglasses up on top of his head, casting another furtive glance left and right before focusing his attention once again on the ECW Diva. "All _right_!" the self-proclaimed A-lister reluctantly relented, his voice still barely above a whisper. "Tonight...after the show...I'll meet you back at your hotel room." He paused for a moment, considering. "I'll just tell Mel that I'm going out drinking with the guys--"

That was all that Melina could bear to hear. Withdrawing back behind the corner, she turned on her furry booted heel, storming down the corridor as quickly as her legs would allow. Her stomach was churning with revulsion; she felt like she might throw up at any second. A huge ball of emotion was lodged in her throat, choking her. The Dominant Diva halted, covering her face with her hand, her features already crumbling, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks--

"Melina?"

The paparazzi princess's head shot up, her gaze locking onto the headset-clad technician in front of her. For a second, her expression still mirrored her misery, but in the next, it had been wiped clean, leaving behind only a blank, disinterested mask. The brown irises that stared back at the technician were dull and lifeless--the faint glitter of tears at her lower lashes the only remaining outward sign of her churning emotions. "What?" she snapped, her voice holding no real animosity.

The technician nodded over his shoulder. "They're looking for you at gorilla--your match is up next." His message delivered, he carefully maneuvered past her, his mind already on his next task--certainly not on the Raw Diva's inner anguish.

Melina stood there for a few moments, listening to the barely audible roars of the fans trickling down toward her from the backstage area. The Dominant Diva took a deep breath, then let it out equally so. Clenching her hands into fists, she set off resolutely toward the gorilla position.

* * *

Jeff turned away from the monitor, leaning sideways against the wall and taking a deep breath. He was less than a hundred yards from the gorilla position; he could still hear Mickie James's upbeat entrance theme blasting out into the arena, an audible reminder of her victory over the paparazzi princess.

Jeff had nothing against the former Women's Champion--he'd always thought of her as a pretty cool chick, and it had been a tough break for her to lose the title the way she had--but for some reason, he felt less than congratulatory toward her right now.

He'd known that Melina was going to lose almost the second the match had started. It wasn't for lack of wrestling ability--if anything, she was more capable than half the Divas on the roster. He'd been astounded two weeks during her match against Torrie, and even more so in her bout against Mickie, by how skilled she actually was inside the ring. Melina might look like just another piece of eye candy--but there was genuine ability in her, raw natural talent hindered only by the rust of disuse.

But without focus, raw ability means nothing--and that was precisely what the Dominant Diva had lacked tonight: _focus_. Melina might have been physically present in the match, but her mind had been a million miles away. Every move she had hit, every punch, every kick...it had seemed distracted, as though out of pure instinct rather than any sort of thought process. There had been emotion in her, sure; anger, most definitely. He had seen it in the wild forearms that she threw, had heard it in the primal screams that ripped out of her throat every time Mickie got a shoulder up.

But it was emotion without purpose; a blank formless rage without a target. She had let it consume her...and in the end, it had been her downfall. When she had gotten to her feet, dazed and reeling after that hurricarana takedown, she had practically walked into Mickie's devastating Tornado DDT finisher. The rest, as they say, had been academic: Mickie had walked away with the victory and a spot in the Women's Championship match...while Melina had been left to glare and fume on the mat.

Part of Jeff--the sensible part, the facet of him that still had some measure of self-control--knew that he shouldn't feel sorry for her; that if _anyone_ deserved his sympathy, it was Maria in her upcoming bout against Lita next week. But the Charismatic Enigma couldn't help himself. He knew what it was like to relinquish himself to the feeling, to push all reason aside and give himself over totally to emotion--even if it meant crashing and burning in the end.

Plus, he had a pretty good idea what could have transpired to make the Dominant Diva so upset--what individual could have enraged her to the point that everything, including a shot at the Women's title, was cast into insignificance.

_Johnny Nitro..._

High-pitched giggles erupted from nearby, jolting the Rainbow-Haired Warrior back to the present. Straightening up and peering around the corner, he saw the recently victorious Mickie James (now one-half of the Women's Championship match at Cyber Sunday) being congratulated by several of her fellow Divas, his adorable Maria one of them.

As they stood there, lost in their exchange of female camaraderie, a new figure emerged from the gloomy interior of the gorilla area, pushing past them, bumping into Mickie almost hard enough to knock her over. The brunette stumbled, glaring with annoyance at the outsider. "Hey, watch it, you--" Her voice trailed off into silence, her lips curving up in a smug smile when she realized that it was none other than her recently defeated opponent.

Jeff felt his breath catch in his throat as Melina strode toward him. She hadn't seen him; she was staring straight ahead, her face full of tightly controlled fury, her eyes dark smoldering holes in her face. As she neared the spot where the younger Hardy brother stood, Mickie spoke again, her alto voice carrying over the noise from the gorilla position. "Hey, Melina! _Great match_ out there!" From the way she said it, however, it was clearly not a compliment.

The other Divas burst into a fit of muffled laughter, but the former Women's Champion wasn't finished. Shrugging, she added in a biting tone: "Guess I was right about you after all."

At this, the paparazzi princess ground to a halt, her whole body tensing. Her back was to the other Divas; only Jeff saw her features twitch as she struggled to keep her emotionless mask in place. Unfortunately, her forced stoicism didn't quite reach her eyes--the younger Hardy brother could see the misery pouring out of them in nearly palpable waves. Melina pressed her lips together until they were nothing more than a thin white line cutting across her face. With a low choked sound, she staggered forward again, turning right and disappearing from the sight of her fellow Divas--but not from Jeff's.

He heard laughter once again, but there was nothing friendly about it this time--this giggles were filled with bright malicious glee, like a high-school clique who has just ostracized the unpopular girl.

If it had been two months ago, or hell, even a month ago, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior wouldn't have cared--if anything, he might even have joined in. But now, the sounds of their vicious amusement filled him with nothing except annoyance...and some small measure of pity--and he didn't have to peek around the corner to know that his sweet little Maria was joining in.

Jeff glanced back at the departing figure of Melina. The paparazzi princess was hunched over, hugging herself with both arms. Her shoulders shot up once, twice, the movement sharp and staccato, as though she was trying to choke back her tears. Groping blindly in front of her, she reached out and grabbed hold of the door directly in front of her, pushing it open a crack and slipping through the small opening into the space beyond. A small brown-and-white sign next to it read simply: "STAIRWELL".

Without thinking, the younger Hardy brother stepped forward, crossing the intersecting corridor and moving toward the set of doors. Putting his hand on the handle, he hesitated, leaning forward slightly and pressing his ear against the door.

For a moment, he heard nothing; only the dull roar of cheering fans and the low drone of the heating system. But then, he caught a sharp intake of breath...followed by the soft sound of weeping.

Pushing open the door, the Charismatic Enigma slid into the dimly lit stairwell. Melina was sitting on the top step, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed. At the sound of the hinges creaking, she looked up, a surprised gasp escaping her throat, swiping hastily at the tear-stains marring her cheeks. "What do you..." There was disdain in her voice, but it was already draining away. "What do _you_ want?"

For a second, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior was struck by the most acute sense of deja vu--he was no longer here, but in that nightclub in Toronto, watching as the neon lights from the dance floor played across Melina's face. She had been crying then, too. Right now, the Dominant Diva might not be drunk...but that didn't make her any less miserable.

Without speaking, Jeff walked over, easing his body down next to her on the step. Struggling off his Intercontinental Championship, he laid it on the ground behind him. Turning back toward Melina, he wrapped his arm gently around her shoulders, pulling her to him.

The paparazzi princess stiffened at his touch, but after a moment or two, her body gradually relaxed, and she twisted around, clinging to him, pressing her face against his chest. Her tears, so quiet and constrained before, now burst out of her in loud hoarse sobs. The sound was muffled, but Jeff could feel her hot pants of breath through the fabric of his shirt. He slid his hand upward to stroke her hair. Leaning down a little, he placed a kiss on the top of her head.

For several long moments, the two of them sat there, holding onto one another. Gradually, Jeff felt Melina's sob slow to sniffles, then to big gulps of breath. Her hands slowly relaxed their hold on his shirt, and Jeff felt the heat of her palms resting on his chest.

The younger Hardy brother felt his heart race. A minute ago, he had been comforting her--but now, all of a sudden, the mood had shifted, subtly transforming into something deeper, more intimate. Melina moved a little closer, snuggling against him, and Jeff had to bite back a groan of need as he felt the supple curves of her body press against him.

Her hands were moving upward now, touching his neck, his face...and the moment her fingers touched his skin, it was as though someone had doused him with gasoline and lit a match. He was burning up, as though her touch was scorching him to the core. His hands were on her hair; he slid them to her face, his fingertips grazing her cheek.

At his touch, the Dominant Diva lifted her head, her dark eyes locking onto his. Just like at the club, they were filled with a calm lucidity, a silent awareness, as though she knew exactly what she was doing. Jeff put his fingers under her chin, tilting her face up a little further. He leaned toward her, watching as her eyelids fluttered closed, a soft sigh escaping her as she breathlessly awaited the contact...

The kiss was brief, a mere touching of lips, and the two of them pulled apart almost immediately, staring at each other with a kind of bewildered wonder. But gradually, as though drawn by magnetic force, they came back together in another kiss. This one was nothing like the first--it was hard, raw, as though the force of their unspoken emotions was being transmitted through this physical contact.

Jeff gripped the back of Melina's head, his lips devouring hers. With a low growl, he pulled her onto his lap, and she let him, her arms wrapping around his neck. Jeff entwined his fingers in her silken tresses, grabbing a handful of hair and gently tugging her head back. He moved his mouth down to her neck, laying a trail of kisses along the line of her throat.

Melina moaned, clinging to him even tighter. Jeff took hold of one of her shoulder straps, peeling it back and touching his tongue to the patch of bare skin beneath it. His self-control had left him--he no longer cared that he was in a stairwell, or that his girlfriend was only a short distance away outside.

All he cared about was that Melina was in his arms, that he was kissing her--and she was kissing him back.

With a gasp, the paparazzi princess abruptly pulled away, vaulting off his lap. "No! I can't! I can't--" She stood, walking a few steps to the adjacent wall, leaning against its textured surface. Her head was bowed; it was clear that she was trying to catch her breath. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper; any louder and it might break. "I can't...do this. If Johnny finds out--"

Jeff blinked, his mouth moving as he struggled to find the words. He tried to rise, but found that he couldn't--their mini make-out session had left him in a fairly...._aroused_....state. "You gotta be kidding me," the Charismatic Enigma muttered, the remark directed just as much to himself as to her. He settled for twisting his upper body around, staring at the Dominant Diva in disbelief. "So _what_? Who _cares_ if he finds out?" Jeff gestured with one hand as he talked. "If that asshole _really_ cared about you in the first place, he wouldn't be cheating on you!"

"You don't understand!" Melina's voice rose in volume, the sound of it almost frantic. Jeff immediately froze--he had never heard the paparazzi princess this panicked before. The Dominant Diva whirled around, fixing her dark eyes on the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. "If Johnny dumps me...then I go back to being just another Diva on the roster--just another _bimbo_ in a short skirt." She shook her head vehemently. "I can't do that; I _won't_ go back to that! I'm not starting at the bottom all over again!"

"So...what?" the younger Hardy brother shot back. He couldn't believe that he was hearing this. "You're just going to stay there and _take_ it? You're gonna let him treat you like crap just so you won't disappear?" Jeff slowly shook his head, unable to keep contempt from creeping into his voice. "That's _pathetic, _princess, even for _you_."

Melina flinched a little at the insult. Her eyes narrowed, her beautiful face already closing down, forming an impenetrable wall between him and her true feelings. When she spoke, there was a note of genuine disdain in her voice. "I don't expect _you_ to understand," she snapped.

Jeff didn't say anything; only stared steadily back at her. Melina's cold expression eventually faltered and she quickly looked away, drawing in a shaky breath. "Besides..." Her tone was soft, hesitant. "Believe it or not...I love him--"

"No, you don't," Despite his discomfort, Jeff rose to his feet, moving over to where the paparazzi princess stood. He leaned down over her, his mouth next to her ear. "You _don't_ love him, princess--you're just too scared of living without him."

"How _dare_ you!" Melina spun back around, glaring up at the Charismatic Enigma. Her expression was furious, but there was a kind of dawning realization on her face, as though Jeff had just voiced something she had never allowed herself to believe until now. She moved closer, expecting him to step back, but the younger Hardy brother just stood there, allowing her body to bump against his. Melina gasped a little at the contact, but managed to maintain her composure. She leaned up, her face only inches from his. "What the _hell_ do you know about me, anyway?"

"I know that _you deserve better than him_!" Jeff retorted, his Southern drawl growing thicker with emotion. Melina froze, her eyes wide and stunned. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior went on. "_Your boyfriend_...is a lying sack of _shit_--and we _both_ know it. You deserve _a lot better_ than _that_."

"Who, then?" Melina whispered. "_You_?" She tilted her chin up, the faintest smile of malicious amusement touching her face. "_You and me_--oh, that's _real_ funny. That's _priceless_." She laughed, but it was an empty hollow sound, with no real conviction behind it.

Jeff waited until she was finished, a tiny muscle near his jaw throbbing as he clenched his teeth. When he spoke, his voice was low, and barely controlled. "You're right, princess--it _is_ funny. You and me--we're _nothing_ _alike_. Hell, we don't even _like_ each other." He paused, watching as the Dominant Diva's smile slowly faded before continuing. "But there _is_ something between us--something that neither of us can understand...or ignore. I feel it...and so do you."

He reached up tentatively, taking Melina's face in his hands, wiping away the last of her tears. "Listen to me," the younger Hardy brother murmured, his tone almost pleading. "_You don't need him_."

For a moment or two, Melina stared back at him without speaking. Then, with a soft sigh of regret, she closed her eyes. Reaching up, she took hold of his hands, gently but deliberately pulling them away from her face. "Yes...I do." the paparazzi princess whispered. She lifted her lids, meeting Jeff's emerald irises one last time. "Without Johnny--I'm _nothing_." She swallowed hard. "Without him...I'm alone."

The Dominant Diva looked away, touching the corners of her eyes with her fingers to catch any unshed tears. "I'm sorry, Jeff," Just hearing her say his name, without sarcasm or scorn--the Rainbow-Haired Warrior felt his heart crack and shatter within his chest. Melina swallowed again; she was clearly struggling to hold back her tears. "I'm sorry..."

Pulling away from him, she brushed past, out of his line of sight. Jeff let her go, not even turning around as she pulled the door open. It wasn't until he heard the tumbler click back into place that the Charismatic Enigma sagged, falling to his knees. He bent down over the floor, struggling to catch his breath. His voice was a barely audible murmur. "You're not alone..."

Jeff swallowed, closing his eyes. He pressed his hands to his face, breathing in the last of Melina's scent that still lingered on his palms.

"You've got me..."


	17. Chapter 17: Face Down

**A/N: OMG, NEW CHAPTER! Yes, really--I swear to God I'm not dead! The end of this semester was BRUTAL--I actually took a hiatus from FF just so I could get work done. Right now, I am SO BEHIND with my stories, so I decided to update this one, because I'd let it go the longest, and the chapter was the clearest in my mind. I apologize for this chapter being short--I'm praying that what it lacks in length, it makes up for in intensity--but the good news is, I'm going to be posting Chapter 18 in the next couple days. I powered through this one in an evening, so I apologize for any typos. Hopefully, y'all will enjoy it. Peace!**

**Thank you to **Esha Napoleon, Anonymous, extremist, i luv hardy, Lucy Grayson, Syco's Path, darkangelmel, hardyLuv, whatagleek, m-yaz, itsaviolentworld, nightmarelover, cherrycokerocks, **and **BigRedMachineUK **for reviewing! WOW! Way to make me feel guilty about not updating, lol. Love yas!

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Chapter 17: Face Down

Melina folded her hands over her chest, staring at the darkened ceiling above her. The paparazzi princess let her breath out in a long sigh, her eyes drifting closed for a second. She was exhausted, both physically and emotionally; she could feel the weight of her fatigue pulling her down into the mattress. But despite her overwhelming weariness, sleep still refused to come to the Dominant Diva.

Melina turned her head, peering vacantly at the other side of the bed. It was unnecessary--she already knew it was empty. She hadn't seen Johnny since he had left the U.S. Bank Arena earlier this evening in a fit of rage. The paparazzi princess didn't need to ask why--she had seen the results of the voting for the Intercontinental Championship along with the rest of the world. Johnny had earned less than a quarter of the fans' votes; a measly thirteen percent.

When the self-proclaimed A-lister had burst into their shared dressing room a few minutes later, emanating fury and spewing obscenities, Melina had wisely stayed silent, watching mutely as her boyfriend changed into his street clothes, grabbed his suitcase, and stormed out without so much as a goodbye, not even sticking around for the remainder of Cyber Sunday.

Right now, she had no idea where Johnny was--and truthfully, she didn't much care. The dark wrath she had seen in his eyes...it had been dangerously close to that almost-insane rage she had glimpsed in him once before, the night he had thrown her against a wall. The last thing Melina wanted to remember was how _powerless_ she had felt during those few agonizing seconds when Johnny had nearly lost all control. Better, then, that he take his frustrations out on someone else, some_where_ else.

Besides, the Dominant Diva welcomed the solitude; those rare moments without flashbulbs going off in her face, where she could drop all of her facades and just be..._herself_. Here, in the dark, far from any prying eyes or ears, she could allow her mind to wander, mulling over her triumphs, her dreams...her regrets.

She used to think that betraying Mick Foley had been her worst mistake in life, the one thing that would haunt her for the rest of her existence.

How wrong she'd been. Hitting the Hardcore Legend with a low blow--that _paled in comparison_ to the act of betrayal she'd committed on herself.

Jeff Hardy had offered her a way out. Her worst enemy, a man she claimed to _hate, _had offered her a chance to escape the stagnant quagmire her life had become, and follow her own heart once again. But instead of accepting it, instead of taking Jeff's hand and allowing him to lead her down that new path...she had fled, run away like a scared little girl.

In that moment, Melina had realized that her self-dubbed nickname was a misnomer. She wasn't dominant, or confident, or any of the things she claimed to be--she was afraid. She was afraid, and as much as she hated herself for giving in to the fear, she always would be--as long as she remained with Johnny.

Her relationship with the self-proclaimed A-lister was fucked-up, dysfunctional, and, as she was beginning to learn, one-sided--but it still scared her less than the possibility of heading down a different road with the Charismatic Enigma. Being with Jeff was like diving out of an airplane without knowing whether or not your parachute was going to open; it was exhilarating and terrifying, horrible and wonderful, all at the same time.

_There is something between us...something that neither of us can understand--or ignore..._

Every time that the Rainbow-Haired Warrior kissed her or touched her, she could feel it for hours afterward, as though the mark of his fingers or lips had been burned into her skin. And every time she pulled away from him, her whole body ached with the pain of unfulfilled desire, as though every nerve, every fiber of her being, was begging for her to relent, to relinquish herself to him.

_I feel it...and so do you..._

Thirteen days had passed since their encounter in the stairwell; thirteen long, slow, agonizing days. And not a second had gone by without her wishing that she was still back in that stairwell, letting Jeff peel the clothes from her body, push her up against the wall and take her--

Since then, Melina had done everything she could to avoid him; she stayed in her dressing room as much as possible, leaving the safety of it only when she had to go to the ring. But it was impossible to prevent _all_ interactions with the Charismatic Enigma, and every time they crossed paths in the hallways or the parking garage, she could feel the weight of his gaze on her.

Whenever that happened, Melina always kept her eyes on the floor, afraid that if she looked up into those probing green irises, her haughty mask would crack, exposing the miserable soul hiding beneath. Because she _was_ miserable; her heart was like a stone within her chest, incapable of feeling anything except unhappiness.

Her life used to be perfect--but somehow, it had gone straight to hell.

The paparazzi princess rolled over onto her side, pressing her face against the pillow. A tear leaked out of the corner of her closed lid, rolling down her cheek. The one man who made her feel..._anything_...was the one man she couldn't possibly have--yes, karma had indeed come back to bite her in the ass in a _big_ way.

The sound of the door handle jiggling jolted Melina out of her self-pitying reverie, and the Dominant Diva sat up, tensing, looking toward the door. Muffled curses followed, uttered by a familiar voice, and she relaxed somewhat.

Johnny had returned.

The paparazzi princess quickly flopped back down onto the bed, turning her back to the door and pretending to be asleep. The door opened, and Melina glimpsed yellow light at the edges of her vision as the illumination from the hallway briefly spilled over her. She heard Johnny take one step, then another, shutting the door behind him. He stumbled suddenly, crashing against the wall, and Melina winced. Either Johnny had tripped over a suitcase...or else he was drunk.

And considering that it was pretty much a clear path from the door to the bed...it was most likely the latter.

The self-proclaimed A-lister eventually made it over to the double bed, though not before colliding with the wall two more times and the bedside table once. He practically dived onto the mattress, the momentum almost bouncing Melina up into the air. The Dominant Diva gritted her teeth, but didn't react; merely lay there as though lost in a deep slumber.

Johnny remained where he had fallen for a few minutes, before rolling over. Melina felt the mattress give as he crawled toward her. The self-proclaimed A-lister curled up against her, draping his arm over her waist. The paparazzi princess had to swallow the urge to gag--her boyfriend fairly _reeked _of alcohol. She squeezed her eyes tighter shut, hoping that Johnny would pass out long enough for her to roll him back to his side of the bed.

The former Intercontinental Champion, however, did not seem to hear her silent prayer. Melina felt his boozy breath wash over her cheek, followed by the light brush of his lips on her ear, her jaw. His hand, resting on her hip, slowly slid up her body, coming to rest on her breast. He snuggled closer, and Melina knew by the way he was pressing against her leg that he was..._turned on_.

Normally, in a situation like this, the Dominant Diva would have felt nothing except mild annoyance at her boyfriend's audacity. But now...in her current state...she felt outright revulsion at the feeling of Johnny's hands on her. Her stomach was churning; she actually thought she was going to throw up.

Lazily, as though she was still half-asleep, Melina pushed her boyfriend's hand away. "Johnny...stop it..." she murmured drowsily.

Instead of backing off, however, the self-proclaimed A-lister only intensified his explorations. His hand closed over her breast again, squeezing it, and Melina felt his tongue lick the curve of her ear.

The paparazzi princess's eyes snapped open. "Johnny--" she repeated, her voice no longer sleepy, but laced with a deadly warning. The former Intercontinental Champion didn't seem to hear her; she could feel his hand trailing down her body, heading for the juncture between her legs. "_Johnny, stop_!"

Twisting free of his embrace, Melina shoved her boyfriend away as hard as she could, pushing him to the other side of the bed, where he landed with a surprised grunt. The Dominant Diva sat up, groping to her right for the lamp switch, locating it, and turning it sharply. There was a click, and the room flooded with golden light, momentarily blinding her. The paparazzi princess's eyes quickly adjusted to the change in radiance, however, allowing her to glare at her boyfriend.

Johnny's clothing was rumpled, as though he'd slept in it, and he was still wearing his sunglasses--no wonder he'd been bumping into every piece of furniture in the room. The self-proclaimed A-lister struggled to sit up, matching his girlfriend's scowl. "Jesus, Mel!" he exclaimed, his voice slurred. "What's your problem?"

The Dominant Diva blinked. "_My _problem?" she echoed, her voice full of disdainful incredulity. "Johnny, it is--" She paused, shooting a quick look at the red numbers of the digital alarm clock. "--almost 1 in the morning...and you're _drunk_. Could I be any _less_ in the mood?"

Silence greeted her retort. Even though Melina couldn't see Johnny's eyes, she still got the distinct impression that he was _glowering_ at her. The paparazzi princess rolled her dark irises in exasperation. "Whatever..." she muttered. She reached over to turn off the lamp, and her fingers had just closed around the switch when Johnny spoke, his voice low and bitter:

"Fuckin' tease..."

The Dominant Diva froze, arm still outstretched, wondering if she had just imagined those last two words. "_What_?" she snapped.

"You heard me!" the former Intercontinental Champion shot back. He finally succeeded in pushing himself up to a sitting position, reaching out to point accusingly at his girlfriend. "It's always 'Not tonight, Johnny, I have a headache' or 'Not now, Johnny, I'm tired' with you!"

The self-proclaimed A-lister cocked his head to the side. "What is it with you lately?" he asked, his tone still scornful. "You won't sleep with me, and you haven't gotten me back _my_ title--_Look at me when I'm talking to you_!" These last words were uttered in a harsh growl, and faster than Melina would have expected anyone so inebriated to move, Johnny reached over, grabbing her arm and jerking her toward him.

The Dominant Diva gasped at the contact. Johnny's grip was painful; she could almost feel the bones in her wrist grinding together. Melina slowly lifted her head, looking up into her boyfriend's eyes--and saw only her scared countenance reflected back at her in the shadowy lenses of his sunglasses. She swallowed hard, trying to quell the small node of dread growing in her stomach. "Let go of me," she whispered.

Johnny didn't comply; only stared back at her with faint derision. It was as though he hadn't even heard her; when he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper: "If I'm not the Champion...and if you won't put out..._then what good are you to me_?"

The paparazzi princess went totally, completely still, her eyes widening in stunned surprise. She could feel Johnny's words hanging above her, like needle-sharp icicles, ready to fall and pierce her skin with their icy jabs. Her face sagged, her jaw dropping open of its own accord, her mind unable to process what it had just heard.

A mocking grin touched the corners of the self-proclaimed A-lister's mouth; apparently, his girlfriend's reaction had not been lost on him. "What?" the former Intercontinental Champion sneered, leaning closer, his breath hitting Melina's face like a foul wave. "You honestly thought that you were something _special_? That I kept you around because I _loved_ you?" Johnny shook his head. "You...you're just another pair of tits that talk--the _only_ reason I kept you around is because unlike all those other clueless bimbos out there--" Nitro paused, flicking his index finger hard against his girlfriend's forehead. "--_you_ actually have enough of a brain to help me win matches."

The self-proclaimed A-lister's handsome features abruptly twisted into something resembling disgust, and he tightened his grip on the paparazzi princess's arm. "But if you can't even do _that_--then you're _worthless_ to me--"

His words ended in a startled yelp as Melina slapped him as hard as she could. The Dominant Diva tore her arm free from his grasp, rising to her knees, her breath escaping her in furious pants. "_I'm _worthless?" she repeated, her voice teetering at the edge of full-blown rage. Without warning, she grabbed hold of Johnny's shirt with both hands, jamming her face into his, her voice rising to a shrill scream. "_I'm worthless_? Maybe you'd win more matches if you weren't busy _screwing other women behind my back_!"

At this, she saw Johnny's expression falter for a moment in shock. The paparazzi princess let out a humorless laugh. "What? You thought I wouldn't find out? About Kelly? About all the others? You thought I'd just accept your lame excuses and pretend that nothing's going on?"

Melina slowly shook her head. "You think I'm nothing without you? Well...you're _nothing_ without _me_! The only reason you were even Intercontinental Champion was because of me! Without me--" The Dominant Diva was livid now, her voice reaching the "primal scream" decibel range. "--without me, you're just a loser wannabe _poser_ who can't even keep it in his pants! You're _pathetic_, a fucking _disappointment_--"

Nitro hit her.

The blow knocked Melina to the edge of the bed, where she teetered for a moment or so, arms pinwheeling frantically for balance, before gravity kicked in, sending her tumbling to the floor. Her legs were tangled in the sheets; half of the bedcovers were dragged down with her.

The Dominant DIva lay motionless on the floor, her cheek pressed against the thin carpet. For a moment, a _heartbeat_, she felt the world surrounding her slow, and then stop--she could even feel the molecules in the air hesitate. It was as though the entire universe had sucked in a shocked breath, as unable to comprehend what had just happened as she was.

Then, with a nearly audible groan, existence lurched back to life again, snapping the paparazzi princess's paralysis. The entire left side of her face was throbbing; the pain too widespread to trace back to any one source. Melina moaned softly, pushing herself up slowly to her elbows. She could feel something trickling from her nose, and touched it tentatively.

Her fingers came away red.

The Dominant Diva rolled over, staring up in utter disbelief at the man she used to trust, the man she used to _love_--the man who had just backhanded her across the face like a seedy character in a bad movie.

As soon as she did, she felt her stomach plummet into the abyss.

Johnny's handsome face was twisted in an expression of crazed fury, a mirror image of the rage he had shown several weeks ago. He was barely recognizable; the beast, the demon, the monster--whatever it was--had been unleashed.

Melina wasn't even aware that she was moving; her entire body had gone numb. It wasn't until she saw her feet kicking that she realized she was propelling herself backwards, trying to escape the cocoon of bed linens, trying to put distance between her and Johnny Nitro.

The self-proclaimed A-lister's arm moved, and Melina flinched, certain that he was going to pounce onto her and wrap his hands around her throat. But Nitro merely removed his sunglasses, blinking in the dim light. His eyes focused on her again, and as she watched, his countenance shifted, the wrath draining away and bewilderment taking its place. "Mel?" he whispered, his tone just as confused as his expression. "Mel...I--"

"Don't touch me!" the paparazzi princess hissed. She finally succeeded in kicking herself free from the tangled sheets, and scrambled to her feet, backing away from the bed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her coat and oversized purse sitting on a nearby chair; without taking her focus off her boyfriend, she reached down and snatched them up.

The former Intercontinental Champion twisted around, fastening his gaze on her again. He seemed to be trying to fathom what had just happened--in some ways, that made two of them. "Mel...wait--"

"Go to hell!" Melina cried, and without waiting any longer, she dashed for the door, wrenching it open and sprinting out into the hall. She didn't bother with the elevator; instead, she headed for the stairwell, flinging the door open and vaulting down the steps two at a time.

For a few terrifying seconds, she could have sworn she heard Johnny's voice, roaring her name--or maybe it was just the panicked thud of her own heart.

* * *

Melina sank down onto the curb, drawing her knees up to her chest. It was deserted on this side of the hotel--no cars were parked nearby, and the one streetlight had gone out, casting everything in a shadowy dimness.

The paparazzi princess touched her face gingerly, wincing. She was pretty sure that her nose had stopped bleeding, but her face still hurt and her left eye was starting to swell shut--she was going to have a hell of a shiner in the morning.

Melina shivered, hugging her knees with both arms. Her feet were freezing--she hadn't even paused to grab a pair of socks before fleeing. But then again, her boyfriend, the person she was supposed to _trust_, had just belted her across the face--footwear had been the last thing on her mind.

The paparazzi princess reached over, digging into her bag and extracting her SideKick. Raising the electronic device to her face, she started to dial 411, but her fingers were trembling too much to hit the buttons, and the glowing numbers smeared into streams of glowing color as tears filled her eyes. Letting go of the SideKick, Melina covered her face with both hands, sobbing uncontrollably.

What was the point? Even if she found another hotel, even if she washed the blood off her face and covered the bruise with a pound of concealer--it wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't _fix_ it. Johnny had _hit_ her--_that_ couldn't be erased or covered up. He had crossed a line, one he couldn't come back from; neither of them could.

Melina knew that in fairy tales, this was the part where the fairy godmother appeared, ready to wave a magic wand and make everything all better. But that wasn't the way things happened in real life. There was no fairy godmother, there was no happy ending, and Prince Charming certainly didn't ride up on a white horse to save the day--

"Princess? Is that you? What're you doing out here?"

Melina's head shot up, her heart fluttering to a stop as the Rainbow-Haired Warrior emerged out of the darkness. "What--" The Dominant Diva struggled to speak; her tongue seemed incapable of forming words. "What're _you _doing here?"

Jeff nodded over his shoulder. "I'm staying at the Holiday Inn across the parking lot; I came out to get some air. Didn't expect to find _you_ here, though." His gaze flickered downward. "What happened to your shoes?"

The paparazzi princess averted her eyes, covering her face with her hands. "Go away, Jeff," Her voice held no anger; only a dull sadness. "Just...leave me alone."

She heard the younger Hardy brother's footsteps approach her, followed by the light pressure of his hand on her knee as he knelt down in front of her. "Hey," Jeff murmured, his tone sympathetic. "What happened?" He took hold of her hands in both of his, gently prying them from her face. As he did, Melina looked up, watching the Charismatic Enigma draw his breath in sharply as he saw her bruised face.

Jeff swallowed hard. "_What happened_?" he asked again, his voice more insistent than it had been the first time. Unconsciously, his hands tightened around Melina's. "He did this...didn't he?"

The Dominant Diva looked away, but she didn't need to; she could tell by the way Jeff's body was quivering with pent-up rage that he had already guessed the truth. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior looked off to the side, inhaling and exhaling furiously through his nose. "Fucking piece of shit..." he muttered to no one in particular. "I'm gonna kill him--"

Melina gasped. "_No_!" she cried. Without realizing it, she slipped her fingers through Jeff's, gripping his hands even tighter. "Don't! Please! You'll only make it worse!"

Jeff tilted his face up, peering critically down at her. "Worse than what he did to you?" he replied bluntly.

The paparazzi princess winced a little. "Please..." she repeated after a long moment of silence had passed. "Please...just...don't get involved."

Jeff stared at her for a few seconds more, before letting his breath out in a reluctant sigh. "Fair enough, princess," he answered, his tone grudging. It wasn't really a promise, but at this point, Melina could have cared less--so long as Jeff stayed away from Nitro tonight.

The two of them sat there in the dark for several minutes before the younger Hardy brother spoke again. "So...where're you headed?"

The Dominant Diva lifted her shoulders up and down in what might have been a shrug. "I was going to call a cab--" She paused, glancing up at Jeff. Her beautiful face was filled with a sort of piteous amusement; her teeth were clattering from the cold. "--but I don't know where to go."

For a moment, the Charismatic Enigma didn't respond; then, with a faint creak of joints, he rose to his feet, extending his hand toward her. Melina looked from it to him, her expression uncomprehending. Jeff's mouth curled in a half-smile, but there was nothing mocking about it. "If you want, princess...you can crash with me for the night."

The paparazzi princess blinked, as unable to process this offer as she was Johnny striking her in the face. "_You_?" she whispered, her voice tentative. Her full lips curved in a bitter smile. "Won't your _girlfriend_ mind?"

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior nodded. "Probably." His green irises locked onto Melina's brown ones, and she felt her smile fade. "But to be honest...I really don't care...I just don't want to leave you sitting out here in the cold."

The Dominant Diva didn't answer, and Jeff sighed, glancing down at the ground. "Look, princess, it's your choice. I'm not going to force you to do anything, not after what you've just been through. But..." The younger Hardy brother hesitated, his gaze swinging up to meet hers once more. "I just figured...the one thing you need right now...is a friend."

A low strangled sound escaped Melina's throat, but she still didn't speak. Jeff bowed his head, nodding a little. "I get it. Just thought I'd make the offer." Without offering a goodbye, he turned on his heel, moving back into the darkness.

He had only gone a few yards when he heard Melina cry: "_Jeff, wait_!", followed by the rapid beat of her footsteps. Her hands closed over his, and the Charismatic Enigma turned, his breath catching in his throat as he gazed down at the paparazzi princess.

Melina gulped, her breath escaping her in a shuddering gasp. "I'm coming..." Her voice abruptly trailed off into silence, as though words had failed her.

Without tearing his eyes from hers, Jeff reached up with his free hand, pushing a lock of hair back behind her ear. As he did so, his fingertips brushed her temple, and he felt her skin instantly infuse with heat. "All right, princess," the Rainbow-Haired Warrior murmured. He slipped his fingers through hers, holding her hand tightly--a grip which Melina returned with equal ferocity.

"All right..."


	18. Chapter 18: We're Ablaze

**A/N: As promised, NEW CHAPTER! I felt this one had to come pretty soon, especially after all the shiznit that went down in the last one. Johnny is a bastard, isn't he--and as much as I'd like to promise otherwise, we haven't seen the last of him yet. With that in mind...please enjoy this new offering! Peace!**

**Special thanks goes out to **itsaviolentworld** for suggesting the song used in this chapter. The song is "Ablaze" by the Armchair Cynics (all rights, etc, belong to them), and I am now totally in love with it; I listen to it constantly, so thanks so much! **

**Thank you to **Esha Napoleon, extremist, nightmarelover, Anonymous, m-yaz, **and **cherrycokerocks **for reviewing the last chapter! You guys are awesome; love yas!

* * *

**

Chapter 18: We're Ablaze

_**This love is a true romance**_

_**How the plot's thick and twisted**_

_**Too good to be real, too real to be fake**_

_**And I swear, you'll be the death of me**_

_**All this friction created generates too much heat**_

_**If you cared, you'd walk away right now**_

'_**Cause every bit of me wants you**_

_**Despite all the pain I withstand**_

_**I didn't light this fire**_

_**But how it burns, burns, burns...**_

Jeff pushed open the door, stepping aside so that Melina could enter the room ahead of him. "Sorry about the mess," the Charismatic Enigma apologized. "I wasn't planning on having company tonight."

Melina halted, her dark irises dully surveying the scene. The only light came from the small bathroom just to her left, its harsh fluorescent spill illuminating the unmade bed, the open suitcase propped against the wall. Truthfully, though, the disorder didn't bother the paparazzi princess. There was something comforting, almost homey, about the tangle of sheets, the pile of clothes on the floor.

Besides, when it came to sheer hurricane-like destruction...no one could trash a hotel room like Johnny.

At the thought of the former Intercontinental Champion, however, Melina felt a huge ball of emotion swell up in her throat, and she had to blink rapidly to keep her tears from spilling down her cheeks. Just the act of doing so caused pain to flare outward from her bruised eye, and the Dominant Diva felt her chest grow tight, so tight that she could hardly breathe. It wasn't fair, _it just wasn't fair_. What had she done to deserve this--what had she done to deserve _any_ of this?

Well, that was a stupid question, wasn't it? The past year and a half of her career had been one reprehensible act after another--what _hadn't_ she done to deserve this after the havoc she had wreaked? What had happened tonight--it had merely been karma finally calling to collect.

The younger Hardy brother touched her arm, and Melina jumped a little at the contact. "What's on your mind, princess?" Jeff murmured. There was concern in his tone, and just the sound of it almost made the Dominant Diva burst out crying all over again.

Melina swallowed hard, forcing her tears down her throat. "Nothing," she whispered, her voice forced and in no way convincing. "Can I use your bathroom?"

Jeff didn't answer at first; merely let out a long breath that could have almost been a sigh. "Sure thing, princess," he replied after several seconds. "Help yourself."

"Thanks," Slowly, with each step feeling like an extraordinary effort, the paparazzi princess crossed the short distance to the tiny washroom, stepping inside, closing and locking the door behind her.

As soon as the lock clicked into place, Melina sagged against the door, pressing her face to the wood, pushing her fingertips into its surface as though they could somehow pierce the door itself. She remained like that for a long moment, before gulping down a deep breath and turning around, walking unsteadily to the sink.

Shrugging her oversized bag carelessly off her shoulder, Melina turned on the water, staring, mesmerized, at the clear liquid splashing into the basin, swirling along the curve of the sink into the drain. Eventually, with limbs that no longer felt like they belonged to her, she grabbed a washcloth from a nearby stack, dampening it under the warm stream of water. She washed her face, taking clear to clean away the flecks of dried blood clinging to her nostrils. Kneeling down, she rummaged around in her purse, locating an elastic hair tie. Straightening up, she pulled her long reddish-brown hair back into a makeshift bun, securing it with the elastic band.

These tasks accomplished, Melina lowered her hands, pressing them against the counter and leaning forward to study her reflection. The young woman staring back at her looked like a complete stranger--her eyes red and bloodshot from crying, the left side of her face swollen and already turning purple.

But this perception of alienation went far deeper than the surface--she not only didn't look like herself, she didn't _feel_ like herself. The paparazzi felt strangely ..._detached_...as though she had been cut off from all sensation. She couldn't feel her skin beneath her fingertips, or the tile under her feet...and even though the water gushing from the faucet was scalding, she couldn't feel even a hint of its warmth.

The mind will often shut itself down to protect itself from pain, and Melina knew that was exactly what was happening--because all she felt was numbness. More than that, she felt a profound lethargy weighing down her limbs, the kind of fatigue that made her want to pull the covers over her head and sleep for a thousand years.

Or maybe...fall asleep...and never wake up.

The soft rap on the door startled the Dominant Diva, and she looked up with a sharp gasp. "Princess?" Jeff's voice sounded hollow through the wooden barrier. "You all right in there?"

The paparazzi princess quickly shut off the water, snatching her purse off the floor. "I'm fine!" she replied, her tone holding a note of forced cheer that set her teeth on edge. "I'm just coming out."

Opening the door and stepping out into the main room, the first thing she saw was the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. He had turned on the bedside lamp, and was setting a full bucket of ice down on the nightstand. In the soft glow of the lamp, he looked almost like a silhouette, the light illuminating the edges of his profile and casting the rest of his face into shadow.

Melina looked down, realizing for the first time that she was still wearing her coat. Hastily, she unbuttoned it, shrugging it off and dropping it on the floor next to her bag. At almost the exact same moment, the younger Hardy brother remarked: "Take off your coat, princess; stay awh---" His casual drawl trailed off into silence as he glanced up, his green eyes locking onto the small frame of the Dominant Diva.

For a moment, Melina wondered why he was staring at her so intently. She glanced down, blushing as she realized that she still had on the thin, low-cut camisole top she had worn to bed. The paparazzi princess quickly crossed her arms over her chest, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. "Sorry," she stammered apologetically.

"Not a problem, princess," Jeff answered, but his voice seemed just a bit huskier than it had been a moment ago. Tearing his gaze away from her (with effort, it seemed) he walked over to his suitcase, crouching down and pawing through the mound of clothes inside. Locating and grabbing two articles of apparel, he turned and held them out to her. One was a zip-up hooded sweatshirt; the other was a pair of thick white socks.

Melina tiptoed forward, eying the proffered clothing warily without speaking. A grin touched the corners of Jeff's mouth. "Don't worry, princess, they're clean." The Dominant Diva's gaze briefly swung to his face, their eyes meeting and holding for a second, and she finally accepted the garments, sitting down on the edge of the bed to don them.

In all honesty, Melina didn't really care if the socks were dirty or not; the numbness in her feet wasn't entirely the result of her state of mental shock. The hoodie was black, with some kind of neon green graffiti-like design splashed across the front. It was too large on her, but it was warm--and there was something safe and reassuring about its warmth, as though it was a security blanket surrounding her with its protective shield.

The mattress creaked as Jeff took a seat next to her on the bed. The Charismatic Enigma had retrieved a clean washcloth from the bathroom. Plucking a couple of the frozen ice cubes from the bucket and wrapping them inside the terrycloth folds, he created a homemade ice pack.

Melina gratefully accepted it from him, pressing it against her face, wincing as the blocks of ice dug into her bruised skin. Gradually, though, the ice began to do its job, dulling her discomfort down to an absence of sensation. She stared at her lap, but it was unnecessary; she could feel Jeff's eyes on her, his gaze pressing against her skin.

A minute of silence crawled by. Then two. Finally, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior cleared his throat. "So...want to tell me what happened?"

In spite of herself, Melina felt tears sting her eyes, and the enormous wad of emotion in her throat returned, choking her, making words almost impossible. She ducked her head even lower until her chin was almost resting against her chest. Her voice, when she eventually did speak, was a hesitant whisper. "He was drunk...and he was angry...and he just kept _blaming_ me...blaming me for everything that's gone wrong." The Dominant Diva slowly shook her head. "And finally...I just couldn't..._take _it anymore. I screamed at him...screamed right in his face...and then he--" She faltered, her voice breaking. "He _hit_ me."

The paparazzi princess sniffled, reaching up with her other arm to wipe her nose on her sleeve. For a moment, Jeff thought that she had clammed up again, but just as the notion flitted across his mind, he heard her voice again, even quieter than before: "This...this is all my fault."

The younger Hardy brother blinked in utter shock. "W-_what_?" he sputtered, almost too incredulous for words. "Princess, believe me: what that asshole did is _not _your fault--"

"_I know that_!" Melina snapped, her head shooting up, her eyes locking onto his. In the midst of her misery, Jeff could hear anger and the slightest hint of impatience in her tone. "He had no right to hit me; I _know_ that--but it's _my_ fault for letting it get this far." She hesitated, briefly stumbling over her words, her in-ring eloquence absent for once. "For letting it get to the point where he has to _hit_ me for me to get the picture and finally leave."

The paparazzi princess shook her head again. "I should have dumped him long ago...when I first found out about him and Kelly--"

"Wait a minute," the Rainbow-Haired Warrior interjected. "_Kelly_ Kelly? The ECW chick?" The query earned him a curt nod. Jeff shrugged, unable to keep a sardonic half-smile off his face. "Doesn't surprise me--she always did give off a 'town bicycle' kind of vibe."

At this, Melina let out an uncharacteristic snort of laughter, but her amusement faded just as swiftly as it had emerged. She lowered the ice pack, holding it in her lap, twisting the terrycloth material in both hands. "You were right," the Dominant Diva remarked. Her eyes bore into his. "I _don't_ love him." She glanced off to the side, looking toward the open door of the bathroom. The light hit her face, illuminating the bruise. "Maybe I did...once--but I don't..._recognize_ him anymore."

Melina closed her eyes, sucking in a choked breath. "It's like...there's this whole other person...wearing Johnny's face and speaking in his voice--but it's _not_ him! Not--" Her voice faltered again, almost breaking. "--not the man I _used_ to know, anyway." She flicked her gaze downward, staring at the floor. "The things he's done...I can't forgive him for." She pulled in another deep breath. "And even if I could--even if he had never committed them in the first place...it wouldn't matter."

Jeff reached out tentatively, his fingers grazing her finger, trailing along the line of her jaw. "Why's that?" the Charismatic Enigma asked, his voice just as soft as hers.

At his touch, Melina turned her head, meeting his eyes without flinching. "Because I can't stop thinking about you."

Her words seemed to echo in the space between them. Jeff froze, his hand still touching her face. Melina went on, picking up speed, her voice gradually warming with pent-up emotion. "You're all I see--all I think about anymore. When I look at you...I can barely breathe...and when you touch me...I feel like I wanna die. Sometimes...I hate you so _much_--" Her voice cracked, and the paparazzi princess quickly looked away, biting her lip as she struggled to rein in her feelings. "--but at the same time, I feel like...like I'll go crazy if you don't touch me."

The Dominant Diva pulled away abruptly, rising to her feet, moving across the room to stand in front of the window. Her back was to Jeff; the Rainbow-Haired Warrior could see her whole body shaking with pent-up tears as she spoke. "This...this is _wrong_, okay? I _know_ it's wrong! You...have a girlfriend...and I..." Melina let out a bitter little laugh. "I don't know _what _I have." She ducked her head, squeezing her eyes closed. "We shouldn't like each other; we shouldn't have anything to _do_ with one another! We're not supposed to--"

"--Fall in love?" the younger Hardy brother finished for her. His tone was flat; there was no way of determining what he was _really_ thinking or feeling. "Is that what we're doing, princess?"

Melina swallowed, her lips trembling. "I don't know _what_ we're doing," she admitted. A tear trickled down her face. Then another. "I just know that it kills me...being around you."

For the longest time, silence reigned in the small hotel room. Eventually, the Charismatic Enigma sighed, rising to his feet, turning away from the Dominant Diva. "You know...I almost lost my match tonight because of you."

Melina was so stunned by the sudden change in topic that she turned around, her lips parting in surprise. Jeff continued, staring down at his hands, at the branch tattoo running along his fingers. "I know, I know, you weren't there...but that's kinda my point. When you're not around..." The younger Hardy brother paused, tilting his face up toward the ceiling as he searched for the words. "...I can't _concentrate_, I can't_ focus_. It's like...I'm in this fog...and when you're not there...you're all I can think about."

Jeff grinned bitterly, even though he knew that she couldn't see it. "I voted for my own match--voted every chance that I got." He paused for a moment, laying deliberate emphasis on his next words. "I voted for Johnny Nitro." The Rainbow-Haired Warrior glanced over his shoulder, meeting Melina's eyes. "Not because I wanted to give him another shot at the title...but because I wanted to make him pay...for what he did to you."

The paparazzi princess gasped, clamping her mouth shut. Her eyes were enormous; Jeff could see the white in them from across the room. They stared at each other, both unable to look away. The Charismatic Enigma went on. "You're right--this _is_ crazy. This is _insane_. If either of us had any sense, we'd walk away right now, because _this_--whatever it is--will burn us alive if we're not careful." He moved toward the Dominant Diva slowly, one step after another, like a moth drawn to a flame. "But if it's so crazy...then why are we both here?"

Melina spun around, turning back to face the window, but she could still hear Jeff's approach, could detect each soft footfall on the carpet. The younger Hardy brother was still talking. "I have a girlfriend that I'm not in love with. I _should _be...but I'm not. But what I feel for _you_...I don't know if it's love or lust or something in between. All I know is that I can't make it stop." He was right behind her now; so close that she could feel his breath caressing her ear. Strange--minutes ago, she hadn't been able to feel _anything_; now just the warmth of his breath was scorching her. "I don't _want_ it to stop."

Jeff hesitantly reached out, encircling Melina's waist with his arms. He could feel the heat of her body burning through all of her layers of clothing. "I don't want this to go away...any more than I want to stop flying."

Melina tensed, and for a moment, Jeff thought that she was going to pull away--or worse, hit him below the belt and run out of the room. But in the next instant, the paparazzi princess relaxed, leaning back against him until her back pressed against his chest. Her hands closed over his, and Jeff loosened his grip enough to allow their fingers to interlock. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to the curve of her ear.

They remained like that for what seemed like an eternity, holding each other, staring out the window at nothing. Melina abruptly spoke, her voice drowsy, as though she was already drifting off to sleep. "Jeff...what's it feel like to fly?"

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior felt a slow smile slip across his face. "It's like nothing else in the world, princess." He bent down further, punctuating his words with soft kisses to her cheek, her jaw, as he spoke. "When you're in the air, and you see the ground rushing up toward you, and you know--you just _know_--that you're gonna hit it...and you're gonna win. Hearing the crowd cheer...feeling the wind whip past your face...you don't even care about how it's gonna feel--all that matters is the _feeling_."

The Dominant Diva turned her face toward his a little. "What happens if you fail, though?" She paused for a moment. "What happens if you crash and burn?"

The younger Hardy brother chuckled. "It hurts--there's not a whole lot that hurts _more_. But it's _worth_ it, you know? Just to feel that _rush_, that _energy_."

"Jeff--" Melina let go of his hands, slowly rotating her body around until she was facing him. She inched closer, pressing her hands to his chest. She tilted her head up, the soft light glinting off the tear stains on her cheeks. "What if _we_ crash and burn?"

Jeff lowered his head, until his mouth was hovering above hers. "Then we do," the Charismatic Enigma whispered. He slid his hands underneath the hoodie, resting them on the small of her back. Her camisole had ridden up a little; he could feel warm skin beneath his fingertips. "But isn't it better to feel _something_ for a few moments than to spend your entire life feeling nothing at all?"

The paparazzi princess stared at him for several long seconds before she suddenly tiptoed up, her lips meeting his. The kiss was hard, passionate, the Dominant Diva's mouth melting open beneath his, moaning softly in her throat as Jeff's tongue touched hers. The younger Hardy brother slid his hands up over the curves of her body, taking hold of the open edges of the hoodie and pushing it off her shoulders. Melina aided him; as soon as it was off, she stretched her arms up over her head.

Jeff didn't even stop to ask what she was implying; he grabbed the hem of her camisole, pulling the thin garment off, and tossing it to the side. Pausing long enough to seal Melina's mouth in another intense kiss, he stripped off his own long-sleeved shirt, throwing it down to join hers.

The younger Hardy brother lifted the paparazzi princess up into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist. They were both naked to the waist; the newfound sensation of skin against skin almost too much for either one of them to bear. Jeff kissed Melina's neck, flicking his tongue against her skin, hearing a pleasurable moan escape the Dominant Diva's lips.

"Jeff..." Melina's voice was husky with desire; her arms were entwined around his neck. With effort, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior lifted his head, meeting her eyes in the dim light. Melina's eyes were cloudy with need; she seemed to be having trouble focusing. "Don't...don't let me fall."

Jeff slowly ran his hands up her back, steadying her, her soft skin like velvet beneath his fingers. "I won't," the Charismatic Enigma whispered. "I promise..."

Slowly, reverently, without tearing his eyes from hers, he carried her over to the bed.


	19. Chapter 19: The Possibility of Happiness

**A/N: OH MY F'N GOD! No, this is not a drill; this is in fact a NEW chapter! I really really REALLY want to apologize; I fell into a bad patch and out of writing for a month or so, and am only just now getting back into it. Plus, I'm moving in less than two weeks, and that is freaking me out like you wouldn't believe. But writing this takes my mind off of all of that, so yay, thumbs up all around. Enjoy! Peace!**

**Thank you to **nightmarelover, Missy89, cherrycokerocks, extremist, darkangelmel, Esha Napoleon, iluvhardy, BigRedMachineUK, wwekeks, J'aime Pour Croire, johncenaissohot, Kyahbell, XXDark CloudXXX, **and **NikkiCandiOE **for your AWESOME reviews! I love you ALL! No, really, I do.

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Chapter 19: The Possibility of Happiness

Jeff opened his eyes, blinking slowly in the dim morning light. For a moment, he was gripped by the usual waker's disorientation; unsure of where he was, why he was there, and why his body hurt so much. Then, as awareness gradually returned to him, the events of the previous evening swam back into focus: Cyber Sunday...his title defense against Carlito...his midnight stroll across the hotel parking lot following the conclusion of the pay-per-view...

The Charismatic Enigma drew his breath in sharply as the rest of last night tumbled back into the forefront of his mind: Melina, bruised and crying on the curb...her hand clenched tightly in his...their conversation in his hotel room...that first kiss, and then what had followed...

Jeff turned his head, gazing at the sleeping form of Melina beside him. The Dominant Diva had her back to him, her body rising and falling slightly with each inhalation and exhalation of breath. Her long hair was loose, falling across the pillow in soft reddish-brown waves. The bedcovers had been pushed down around her waist, exposing the sinuous contours of her naked upper body.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior rolled over onto his side, propping his head up on his elbow. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the smooth curve of her bare hip, or her olive skin, glowing in the faint light...

In the midst of his voyeuristic desire, however, Jeff could hear a voice calling out faintly from the back of his mind—the rational part of his psyche clamoring for attention. And while he could ignore it all he wanted, he couldn't deny that it had a valid point.

He had slept with another woman. He had cheated on his girlfriend—a first even for _him_—and slept with another woman. More than that, the other woman in question was none other than the girlfriend of his worst enemy; a woman who, at least on camera, hated his guts.

Jeff had always spent his life living from one moment to the next; for him, adulthood had been little more than one unending leap of faith. But he had ended up in enough hot water over the years to gradually comprehend that all actions, no matter how small, had consequences. And something like _this_...would have _major_ consequences. When Nitro found out...

More than that—when _Maria_ found out...

He could already hear everyone's voices in his head, his older brother's chief among them, criticizing him, chastising him, asking what he had been _thinking_, telling him that it was _wrong_. Maybe they were right; maybe it _was_ wrong.

But Jeff didn't really care. Despite their less-than-amiable history, he couldn't bring himself to believe that what had happened last night between him and the paparazzi princess was a mistake. Besides...while everyone might be content to judge his life all they wanted, in the end, _he _was the one who had to _live_ it.

Sleeping with Melina might not be what everyone else wanted...but it was what _he _wanted. And to the Charismatic Enigma...that was all that mattered.

Slowly, Jeff reached over, taking hold of the sheet and tugging it gently up until it covered the Dominant Diva's slumbering form. As he did, his fingers accidentally grazed her shoulder and he continued the caress, trailing his hand along the delicate line of her neck, feeling the soft throb of her pulse beneath his fingertips.

Melina stirred a little at the contact, stretching slightly in her sleep. Moaning quietly in the back of her throat, she rolled over, nestling her body in the curve of Jeff's, draping her arm over his waist. Sensing that she was near waking, Jeff took the opportunity to cast one last long lingering look over her.

Melina's face was a portrait of beatific serenity; he had never seen her look so peaceful. But it was more than that; there was a..._glow_...about her; an inner radiance that he had never witnessed before.

Almost as though she was..._happy_.

Jeff touched her face, his fingers gently stroking the velvety softness of her cheek, and Melina's eyes fluttered open. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior would always remember the way she looked in that first moment: her dark irises lit up with drowsy desire, the way her mouth curved into a tiny smile at the sight of him.

"Mornin'," the paparazzi princess whispered, her voice a husky murmur.

Jeff felt a smile of his own touch his lips. "Mornin', princess," he replied tenderly. Bending his head down, he captured her mouth in a soft lingering kiss, which Melina ardently returned. Trailing her hands up his chest, she wrapped her arms around his neck. The movement caused her body to press closer against his, and now it was Jeff's turn to groan. Already, the quiet flicker of desire in him had risen to a low ache; a few more minutes, and the need would be almost unbearable.

But then Melina suddenly drew back, and the Charismatic Enigma felt his ardor falter when he saw her face. The paparazzi princess's smile had disappeared, and there was apprehension in her dark eyes now, along with an amalgamation of other emotions fighting for dominance. Jeff felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. She was pulling away, shutting herself off from him, and he could almost hear the nearly-audible bang of her defenses slamming back into place.

As though to illustrate this, the Dominant Diva averted her gaze, abruptly extricating herself from Jeff's embrace and sitting up. "I should go." Her voice was toneless, distracted, as though her mind was a million miles away. Shoving the covers aside, she swung her feet over the edge of the bed.

Jeff blinked in surprise. "What?" he managed to sputter. "Why?"

Melina paused, but didn't turn around. Her reddish-brown hair tumbled down her back almost to her waist, covering her like a cloak. "My stuff," she finally replied after a few moments. "My stuff...it's still back with Johnny. I should-"

"Fuck that," Jeff interjected brusquely. He pushed himself up on his elbows, peering intently at the paparazzi princess. "You can get new stuff. Hell, I'll _buy_ you new stuff-"

"It's not just that!" Now it was Melina's turn to interrupt, a faint note of agitation creeping into her tone. She turned her head a little, bringing her profile back into view. Her lids were lowered; Jeff had no idea if she was even looking at him, but he strongly suspected that she was secretly studying him out of the corner of her eye. The Dominant Diva continued. "I have...to talk to Johnny."

Her voice faltered a little as she mentioned her boyfriend's name, and Jeff found his gaze unconsciously drifting to the bruise beside her left eye. The swelling had gone down, but only a little; even with a ton of makeup covering the discoloration, it would still be painfully obvious that _someone_ had hit her.

Jeff felt a dull stab of anger knife through his insides, saw red hovering at the edges of his vision, and it was only with effort that he caught the paparazzi princess's next words: "I owe him that much-"

"Listen to me!" The Rainbow-Haired Warrior sat up in a smooth blur of motion, grabbing Melina's face in both hands and forcing her to look at him. He saw Melina flinch, and realized that his words had emerged as little more than a furious hiss. Jeff took a few deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down before he went on. "This guy _lied_ to you, he _cheated_ on you, and when you confronted him—which you had every right to do—he _hit_ you!" He leaned down, until his nose was almost touching hers. "You don't owe him a _thing_."

He was expecting Melina to offer at least a weak rebuttal to this, but the Dominant Diva said nothing; only stared mutely back at him. The Charismatic Enigma sighed heavily, casting his eyes downward. "Look, princess," he eventually added after a second or two. "It's _your_ choice. I'm not going to tell you what to do. It's just that..." He hesitated, his tone softening. "...I would really love it...if you stayed."

Jeff leaned forward, sealing her mouth in a brief tender kiss. Breaking it off, he slid his lips along the line of her jaw, touching his tongue to her earlobe, which evoked a low moan from the paparazzi princess. "_Stay with me_," the Rainbow-Haired Warrior murmured.

A long moment of silence elapsed as Melina considered this. Finally, she pulled back a little until she was facing the younger Hardy brother once again. Her head bobbed up and down in a single nod. It was a small gesture...but it spoke more than the most eloquent of affirmations. "All right," the Dominant Diva whispered. "_I'll stay_."

Tilting her head up, she kissed him, one which was far less chaste or innocent than his had been. Jeff wrapped his arms around her waist, falling back onto the bed and pulling her on top of him as he kissed her back.

And pretty soon, they were doing more than just kissing.

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Jeff peered out through the windshield as he steered the car down the road. The sky had a gray overcast quality, like it was about to storm, and there was a chill wind whipping through the air.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior wasn't concerned about the weather; it was still early afternoon, and he had picked up enough shortcuts over the years to shave some time off the two-hour drive to Columbus. Besides, his focus wasn't on the trip or tonight's Raw broadcast or even the stretch of asphalt ahead of him...but on his passenger.

Melina stared wordlessly out the window at the passing scenery, her hands folded limply in her lap. They had stopped at a nearby mall after leaving the motel, and she had since changed out of her pajamas into a newly-purchased pair of jeans and graphic t-shirt, her reddish-brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was still wearing Jeff's borrowed hoodie over her like an oversized jacket.

The younger Hardy brother shot a glance in her direction. It seemed strange that they could be so comfortable with one another, and yet so awkward at the same time. Despite the physical intimacy they had shared, Melina still remained extremely guarded around him. Her conversation was limited, and even Jeff's best attempts at humor were met with little more than a wan smile.

The Charismatic Enigma suspected that she was still a little shell-shocked; trying to reconcile the reality of last night with the uncertainty of this morning, with no clear idea of where to go from here. He didn't blame her; to a certain extent, he felt the same way. But then again, uncertainty was his milieu; it was something he _thrived_ on.

He was pretty sure that it had been a long time since Melina had been uncertain about _anything_.

_I can't stop thinking about you..._

Except when it came to her feelings for him...whatever those might be.

_Sometimes, I hate you so much...but at the same time...I feel like I'll die if you don't touch me..._

What _did_ they feel for each other, anyway? _Love_? Love was a word that Jeff didn't throw out too often in his life; it was an emotion as wildly unpredictable as himself. What he felt for Melina was largely physical attraction, yes...but there was more to it than simple lust. He felt a sort of irrational..._protectiveness_...whenever he was around her; felt it well up inside of him every time she grabbed his hand or rested her head on his shoulder.

There was more to Melina as well; a personality lurking inside her that he was only just beginning to glimpse. There was a shyness about her, a vulnerability that he never would have expected. Beneath her cold, arrogant exterior was a soul of surprisingly fragility—and _that_, more than anything, was what he wanted to protect...because he could already see the scars and scratches that Johnny Nitro had left on its surface.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior shifted a little in his seat. He wanted to reach over, put his hand on her knee, but something stopped him—the fear that she would jerk away from his touch, draw even further within herself. Instead, he reluctantly pulled his gaze back to the road, clearing his throat awkwardly as he racked his brain for a possible topic of conversation.

Up ahead, in the distance, he spotted a familiar red-and-white sign, and a spark of inspiration flickered across his brain like lightning. "So, princess…" he began tentatively, hoping he didn't sound like as much of an idiot as he felt. "Care to make a little detour at Dairy Queen?"

The Dominant Diva looked up, but not over at him. "Dairy Queen? Now? It's freezing outside." Despite the harshness of her words, her tone held no real derision.

The younger Hardy brother chuckled. "It's never too cold for a Blizzard, princess," He leaned back in his seat. "What's your flavor, anyway? I bet I can guess." Taking one hand off the wheel, he pretended to tick items off on his fingers. "Oreo? Reese's Pieces? No…wait…I got it?" He shot a sidelong glance at the paparazzi princess, a teasing smile on his lips. "M&M…right?"

His grin quickly faltered, and then faded altogether when he saw that Melina was not laughing. The Dominant Diva had her head bowed, and was staring intently at her lap. Her slender form was trembling, and her lips were pressed together in a thin line, as though she was trying her very hardest not to cry.

Before Jeff could ask if she was all right, she spoke, her voice low and choked and full of unshed tears. "_Pull over, please_,"

There was a strip mall up ahead on the right. Jeff swiftly turned the wheel in that direction, swinging into the parking lot and pulling into a space at the far end, away from the stores. Before he could even put the car in "PARK", Melina threw open the passenger side door, vaulting out of the vehicle and striding across the pavement.

Jeff's first thought was that she was running away, and immediately began fumbling, trying to turn off the car and unbuckle his seatbelt at the same time. But by the time he exited the vehicle, nearly falling on his face in his haste, he saw that the paparazzi princess had halted about fifty yards away, her face buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she wept.

The Charismatic Enigma jogged over to her side, reaching out hesitantly to grasp her shoulder. "Princess? What's wrong?" Gently, he turned her around, holding her by her upper arms. "Talk to me,"

"_I don't deserve this_," Melina's words emerged as barely more than a strangled cry.

The bitter sorrow in her voice made the Rainbow-Haired Warrior's heart wrench painfully within his chest, and he pulled the Dominant Diva a little closer to him. "Don't deserve what, princess?"

"_This_!" The paparazzi princess looked up, her beautiful face wet with tears. With one hand, she gestured emphatically at the space between them. "What I…_feel_…when I'm with you—what I'm feeling right _now_!"

Jeff slowly reached up, cupping her cheek in his hand, wiping away her tears with his thumb. "And what's that?" Emotion had crept into his voice, making it hard for him to speak. He felt something flutter within him, and realized that it was a sort of hopeful anticipation.

Melina sniffed, fresh tears rolling down her face. Her dark eyes never wavered from his, and when she did speak, her voice had not lost that low choked sound. "_Happy_," she whispered. "_Happy_…and _alive_…and _free_—and I don't deserve to feel _any_ of those things!"

The Dominant Diva looked away from him for a second. "My entire _career_ has been one shitty deed after another. Everyone on the roster _hates _me—and they have _every reason_ to hate me!" Her voice, soft at first, began to rise in pitch and volume. "Why should they _like_ me? I'm a horrible person—"

"No, you're not," Jeff interrupted quietly. He pulled Melina against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. Melina didn't resist; merely clung to him fiercely. The younger Hardy brother knew that she had finally reached her breaking point; any further agitation and she would dissolve into hysterics. So he kept his tone calm, modulated, choosing his words carefully as he spoke. "You might _think_ you are, princess—but you're _not_." Jeff pressed his lips to the top of her head, murmuring into her hair. "You have a heart, and as long as you've got _that_…you're not as bad as you think you are."

The paparazzi princess didn't reply at first; only sniffled. When she eventually did speak, her voice was still thick, but considerably calmer than it had been a few seconds ago; her words emerging in broken fragments: "When I woke up this morning…I thought...that last night…was just about sex…and that was _it_." She drew in a shaky breath, and then went on. "But…the more I'm with you…the more I feel like…_this_ could _work_—like _we _could work." Melina pressed her face against his chest. "And it scares me more than anything…but at the same time…_I don't want it to stop_."

The words were out of Jeff's mouth before he could even comprehend what he was saying. "It doesn't have to."

At this, the Dominant Diva lifted up her head, her brown eyes still wet with unshed tears. Her expression was stunned. "What—what do you mean?" she stammered, although it was clear from the look in her dark irises that she already knew the answer to her question.

Jeff held her face gently in both hands, smiling in spite of himself. "What do you think I mean, princess?" he replied softly. "I'm talking about you and me." He paused for an instant, laying deliberate emphasis on his next word: "_Together_."

Melina gasped, her eyes growing wide. For a moment, the color evaporated from her face, but in the next, it rushed back in, flushing her complexion, tinting her cheeks a bright pink. She reeled a little, and for a second, Jeff thought she was going to go down, but the paparazzi princess quickly steadied herself. Her eyes never wavered from his face.

In the back of his mind, the younger Hardy brother was aware of much this situation mirrored the discussion he had had with Maria once upon a time about the nature of their relationship…and how much it differed from it. Back then, he had said everything that Maria had asked for…and had meant none of it. He had gone along with their relationship only because he had assumed that his feelings for the backstage reporter would eventually deepen into something more than friendship—but also because dating her was almost what was expected of him.

Now he was saying next to nothing, laying out his intentions in the vaguest terms possible…and yet he meant every word.

There was still no response from the Dominant Diva. Jeff sighed, glancing down at the ground for a heartbeat. "Look, princess—I'm just as freaked out as you are about this. But I _want_ this; I _want_ this more than anything."

He looked back up, his emerald irises boring into hers. "But I can't do it alone. It takes two of us to make something like this work. I'm willing to try…but only if you are, too."

The Charismatic Enigma hesitated, reaching down to take both of Melina's hands in his. "Melina…" Just uttering her name sent a shock through him, like a bolt of electricity. "_Do you want this_?"

As he spoke those words, Jeff felt the world around them slow down to an indeterminable crawl. A second ticked by. Then another. And then, slowly, the paparazzi princess nodded. "I want this," she whispered. Her tone was still soft, but there was confidence in her voice now that hadn't been there previously, and looking into her eyes, the younger Hardy brother saw a fire burning in their dark depths that he thought had been long extinguished.

The Dominant Diva's fingers slipped through his, entwining with his. Her lips moved, pouring out six of the sweetest words he had ever heard in his life: "_I want to be with you_."

To this, Jeff had no answer; he instead grabbed the back of Melina's neck, pulling her into a passionate kiss. The paparazzi princess returned it, wrapping her arms around him, arching her body against his.

They embraced for what felt like forever in the back of that parking lot, the high flyer and the Dominant Diva. Eventually, though, Jeff pulled back, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "Come on, princess," he remarked, his voice warm with affection. "Let's go,"

Melina said nothing, only leaned against him, putting her arm around his waist as they strolled back toward the car. Just as the Rainbow-Haired Warrior was about to lean down to open up the passenger side door, she spoke up. "You were right, though."

Jeff looked up at her questioningly, unsure of what she was referring to. The paparazzi princess smiled—the first _real_ smile she'd displayed all day. "It _is _M&M."

The Charismatic Enigma didn't know what kind of expression crossed his face at her remark, but whatever it was, it was enough to send the Dominant Diva into peals of laughter. After a second or two, Jeff joined her, the mingled sounds of their shared amusement wafting up into the cool air.

Of all the kisses he shared with Melina, the younger Hardy brother would always remember that one in the parking lot with the most acute clarity. Maybe it was the mixture of sensations that made it stand out from all the others; the chill atmosphere juxtaposed with the warmth of Melina's skin, the sweet softness of her mouth as it melted open beneath his.

Or maybe it was what she had said; those six short words that had resonated like an earthquake tremor deep within his soul…

_I want to be with you…_

He didn't know then that it would be a long time before he would kiss her like that again.


	20. Chapter 20: Shattered Romance

**A/N: NEW CHAPTER! I'm going to be honest: it broke my heart writing this chapter. I swear, this is one of the first times I've almost cried while writing something-and also one of the first times I've started yelling at characters THAT I'VE CREATED. Without giving anything else away, I hope you enjoy it. Peace!**

**Also, I apologize for any typos. I finished this chapter in a marathon session right after recovering from a vicious bout of flu, and I didn't get some of the subtleties that I wanted. Please, be kind.**

**Thank you to **Kyahbell, Oomph Kiddo, darkangelmel, extremist, cherrycokerocks, A Believer of Many Things, Missy89, Esha Napoleon, BajanDiva, nanabear123435, XXDark CloudXXX, **and **Nikki7993 **for reviewing the last chapter! I love you ALL!

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Chapter 20: Shattered Romance

Jeff swung the car into the parking space, twisting the key and turning off the ignition. Despite the shortcuts he had taken, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior had still arrived at the Nationwide Arena later than he had planned, and the only space available was at the far end of the garage. Jeff didn't really mind; with his track record of tardiness, he was used to settling for the less-desirable spots...and besides, its distance from the main arena ingress would afford him a few more precious moments of privacy with Melina.

The Charismatic Enigma turned a little, gazing over at the paparazzi princess. It was funny, but she seemed to be _changing_ somehow; as though with each passing second, she was becoming less Johnny Nitro's and more..._his_. Her demeanor was still quiet, still shy-but it was a different kind of quiet; a serene sort of silence, as though she was finally..._at peace_-both with herself and with everything that had happened.

For not the first time, Jeff found himself wondering if the brash, shrieking Diva he had grown accustomed to seeing at ringside was nothing more than a fabrication; a character created to fool everyone, including Nitro...a persona designed to prevent the world from glimpsing just how scared and confused and fragile she really was. Jeff didn't mind; if anything, he found it endearing. There was something pure and awkwardly genuine about Melina's timidity, as though she was slowly relearning what it was like to just be _herself_.

_Jeff...what's it feel like to fly?..._

The younger Hardy brother had always been a free spirit; despite the numerous mistakes he had made throughout his life, he could still boast that he had lived it according to _his_ terms. He could not imagine anything more constricting than suppressing the innermost core of himself for the sake of another; than perpetuating a lie because it satisfied someone else's twisted ideals. To him, that wasn't love. Love was about compromise, yes...but it didn't mean stifling yourself to the point where you couldn't even recognize yourself anymore.

As he had done multiple times today, Jeff silently cursed the former Intercontinental Champion. Melina had sacrificed everything for Nitro...and the self-proclaimed A-lister had repaid her by cheating on her, belittling her, and beating her when she tried to stand up for herself. He didn't deserve her, he had _never_ deserved her...and more and more, Jeff found himself regretting that he hadn't broken the pretty-boy's nose when he'd had the opportunity.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior reached over, taking Melina's hand in his. The Dominant Diva didn't pull away this time; merely squeezed his hand in reply. Turning her head, she locked gazes with him, the corners of her full lips curving up in a smile. A long moment of silence passed between them...but there was nothing uncomfortable about that void of quiet.

Eventually, Jeff cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, his voice slightly hesitant. "You don't have to, you know."

Melina looked away, pondering the statement for a few seconds before answering. "I'm going to run into him sooner or later," the paparazzi princess finally replied. "It might as well be now."

She let out her breath in a quiet sigh, and Jeff thought he saw the line of her shoulders stiffen. "Besides...I want him to know...that it's over."

"What are you going to tell him?" The Charismatic Enigma let go of her hand, reaching up to trace the curve of her cheek with his fingers.

Melina made a soft sound in the back of her throat, and Jeff felt her lean into his touch. "The truth," she admitted. "That I don't love him anymore..." The Dominant Diva paused, lifting her head, her dark eyes meeting his once again before she went on. "...and that I've found someone else."

Upon hearing that, that tacit acknowledgement that she was now his, Jeff felt a curious fluttering sensation within his stomach, like thousands of butterflies flapping their wings at once, and it took everything he had to keep his voice from shaking as he spoke. "You don't have to do this alone." His hand was still on her face, his thumb lightly caressing her skin. "I could go with you-"

Melina shook her head, but there was nothing agitated about her negation. "Thanks...but I'll be fine. _Really_." Somehow, during their conversation, she had drifted closer to him; their mouths were now almost touching. Tilting her face up a little, the paparazzi princess closed the space between them, capturing Jeff's lips with hers.

The kiss was soft, gentle-and yet, the younger Hardy brother still felt heat bubble up within him, as though his insides had been transformed into molten lava. Gripping her shoulders, he pulled her against him, wishing that time would just _stop_, that he could remain forever locked in this moment of blissful desire... But the moment _did_ end, and the Rainbow-Haired Warrior reluctantly pulled back, gazing wordlessly into Melina's wide brown eyes.

He often wondered, in the weeks that followed, what would have happened if he had told her the truth then, if he had shoved aside the remainder of his indecision and allowed himself to voice the three little words pressing against his lips, begging to be released. Would it have changed things? Would it have prevented what followed from coming to pass?

Jeff had no way of knowing for certain; hindsight, after all, could be very deceptive. Maybe it would have...or maybe the events that followed were always destined to play out as they did. All he _did_ know was that, in that crucial half-second following the kiss, something inside him locked up. Some long-buried fear took hold him, preventing him from surrendering himself totally to his emotions, and what emerged from his mouth instead was: "Meet me here...after the show?"

If Melina noticed anything amiss in him, she didn't vocalize it; only placed a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth and whispered: "I'll be there..." With movements as liquid and fluid as smoke, she unbuckled her seat belt, exiting the car. Turning back toward him, she fluttered her fingers in a wave before hoisting her oversized purse up onto her shoulder and walking quickly toward the arena entrance.

As soon as she was out of his line of sight, Jeff leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes and letting his breath out in one long shuddering sigh. Even though the Dominant Diva was gone, her presence lingered, as though some part of her-her scent, her _essence_-had remained with him, leaching into his pores and mingling in his bloodstream.

He was addicted to her, and the cravings he now felt in her absence were more acute than those he had ever felt for any chemical substance. But there was something about this desire, this _feeling_, that he knew no drug could ever bring him.

Something _pure_. Something _satisfying._

Keeping his eyes closed, the Charismatic Enigma slowly counted to twenty. Then again. Then a third time. When the final number had fallen from his lips, Jeff opened his eyes and exited the car. Pulling his suitcase out of the backseat, he slowly began his trek toward the arena entrance.

By now, the only other people in the garage were technicians and other backstage personnel. Melina was nowhere in sight. Still, the younger Hardy brother found himself unable to return to reality. He felt like he was locked in perpetual free-fall; his feet seemed to be floating above the ground. Everything around him had taken on an otherworldly radiance, and Jeff found himself staring at familiar objects in wonder, as though he had never really seen them before now.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior laughed quietly under his breath. "This is stupid, Jeffro," he murmured to himself, doing his best impersonation of Matt. "This is so fucking stupid." But even as the words echoed in his ears, they did not diminish the euphoria swelling inside him. They were just words, after all; just groups of syllables strung together...they had no power over him.

And as a delighted smile spread across the face of Jeff Hardy, he found himself thinking that he _would_ tell her the truth; that tonight, after the show, when he and Melina were alone, he would look her in the eye and tell her that he lov-

His thoughts screeched to a halt and the rosy dome of rapture surrounding him abruptly shattered into silvery shards as he spotted a figure hurrying toward him.

One glance told him that it was Maria...and a second one told him that she was clearly upset.

Jeff felt something inside him lurch, as though he was on a plane that had just hit a patch of turbulence. It had been late last night, and dark, and all of his focus had been on the Dominant Diva...but was it possible that another Superstar or Diva had seen them together?

Was that why Maria was coming toward him with such furious rapidity-because she already knew what he was going to tell her?

However, as the backstage reporter neared him, Jeff could see that there was no anger in her expression...only a mixture of fear and panic. And immediately, whatever relief the younger Hardy brother might have felt dissipated as his danger sense ratcheted up several notches.

Something had happened. Something _bad_. And whatever it was, it was enough to scare Maria (who was fairly tough in her own right) half to death.

The Charismatic Enigma opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't get a chance to. Maria almost collapsed against him, grabbing onto his jacket, her terrified green eyes boring into his with frightening intensity. Words were pouring out of her mouth at a rate that Jeff normally only heard in moments of great excitement. "Oh my God! Jeff! Where have you _been_? I've been trying to reach you-I've been calling you all day-"

The backstage reporter paused long enough to suck in a breath before barreling on. "Eric Bischoff...he's back...the McMahons put him in charge, _tonight_...and he's making me wrestle!"

Maria's full lips trembled, tears rolling one by one down her cheeks. All of a sudden, her face crumpled and she began to bawl. "_He's making me wrestle Umaga_!" the Raw Diva wailed. "_He's says I have to wrestle Umaga or I'll be FIRED_!" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she instantly dissolved into tears.

Jeff couldn't speak at first; he was so stunned by the abrupt inundation of information that awareness was returning to him in jagged chunks, each one slamming into him like a ton of bricks.

Eric Bischoff, _former_ General Manager of Raw and Class-A douchelord, now back in charge. _That _was bad enough. He and Bischoff had never gotten along; in fact, the former GM had been part of his reason for leaving the company three years ago. If Bischoff was back-not only back, but _running the show_...then things were only going to get ugly.

Another awareness chunk crashed into the Rainbow-Haired Warrior, so hard that it almost knocked him over. Wait a minute...Maria against _Umaga_? That was like sending in a kitten to fight Godzilla. Jeff had been fortunate enough to never have to face off against the Samoan Bulldozer in competition, but knew that the other Superstar weighed close to three-fifty, and possessed a mean streak a mile wide. Hell, _Kane _had been unable to beat this guy...Maria didn't stand a chance.

The younger Hardy brother started to ask why this match was even taking place, but realized that doing so would be pointless. When dealing with Eric Bischoff, asking why was irrelevant...the only thing you _could_ do was figure out how to emerge from the ordeal with minimal damage.

Jeff wrapped his arms around Maria, more out of reflex than any conscious desire to comfort-his brain was still being bombarded as new revelations exploded into awareness. "It's okay," he murmured, his voice dazed. "It's okay." His tone held no confidence, however; all he could think about was what was going to happen to _him_. Bischoff _hated_ the Charismatic Enigma, always had; Jeff's rebellious streak ran counter to the former GM's need for absolute obedience.

So what would he do, what sadistic torments would he dream up...now that, for one night at least, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior was back under his thumb?

As though she had read his mind, Maria's sobs died away into sniffles, as she regained enough of her composure to be able to speak. "That's not all; I heard...what he's-he's-" Her voice shook, broke. Maria paused, sniffing, before eventually going on. "-what he's got planned for you."

Jeff squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the sickening mental jolt as his feet connected with the ground, returning him to reality. All around him, the world was losing its brilliance, once again becoming hard, dull...and violent. "Tell me..." the younger Hardy brother whispered, the last of his ecstasy evaporating.

* * *

Melina strolled down the hall, humming to herself. She felt an insane urge to skip, to twirl around, to burst into song like they did in those old musicals. The Dominant Diva couldn't help it; this sensation, this feeling of joy inside her...it felt almost too big for her tiny frame, as though it would burst if she didn't externalize it in some way.

Last night, after Taboo Tuesday, she had thought that she was destined to be miserable, that she would never again know what it felt like to experience happiness...and now, less than twenty-four hours later, here she was, almost deliriously euphoric.

What she and Jeff had shared had been more than just sex...although, the paparazzi princess thought, a slow blush spreading across her cheeks, the sex was definitely worth mentioning. He had been gentle, so unbelievably gentle...and yet, there had been times when she had felt his passion radiating through his touch with such intensity that she thought her skin would melt beneath his mouth and hands. And during that final moment, when the feeling had eclipsed them and they had climaxed together, his arms tightening around her, his pleasurable groans mingling with her cries...she was sure she could feel his heartbeat, matching hers beat for beat, as though, in that moment of shared passion, they had truly become one body, one _entity._

In her mind's eye, she could still see him, standing with her in that deserted parking lot, could still hear his voice, the soft musical timbre of his Southern accent, murmuring those words that had said nothing and everything at the same time...

_Do you want this?..._

_ ..._and her unexpected reply, the syllables tumbling out of her mouth, startling her in their earnest clarity...

_I want to be with you_...

Was it truly that simple? Was Jeff Hardy the key to the happiness her life had been lacking? She had to believe that he was, because the more she repeated those six words to herself, the more powerful they seemed to become, like a magical incantation that grows in strength each time it is recited. The paparazzi princess hugged herself with both arms, murmuring that single phrase under her breath, over and over:

_I want to be with you..._

_ I want to be with you..._

_ I want to be with you..._

Up ahead, Melina spied Nick Dinsmore, better known to the WWE fans as the mentally challenged character, Eugene, stretching in evident preparation for an upcoming match. Nick noticed her almost as soon as she spotted him, his face instantly twisting into an expression of wary suspicion. No doubt he was already anticipating his usual greeting of a haughty sneer (on a good day) or a snide comment about his mental capacity (on a bad day).

However, the Dominant Diva did neither. Flashing a warm smile at the Raw Superstar, she lifted her hand in a wave. Nick's countenance registered surprise, and with his mouth hanging agape, he looked just as clueless as the character he portrayed in the ring. Lifting his hand, he tentatively returned the gesture, blinking stupidly in shock.

Melina, however, had already forgotten about him; not out of rudeness...but because she had just glimpsed an unwelcome reminder of the task that awaited her.

Less than fifty yards away, a closed door stared silently back at her. Outwardly, it was no different than all the other doors in the backstage area of the arena; the only thing that distinguished it from its counterparts was the tastefully lettered sign displayed on its outer side:

_Johnny Nitro & Melina_

The paparazzi princess stopped in front of it, swallowing hard. Her heart felt like a stone within her chest. She was barely aware that she was even still breathing, except that with every exhalation and inhalation, her joy diminished...and her fear increased.

Melina had seen a lot in the two years she had been with the company. She had taken a 619, been locked in the Ankle Lock, and had even stood in the same ring as the Big Red Machine. But in this moment, she realized that none of those things scared her more than the thought of facing her boyfriend (or was it _ex_-boyfriend now?) again.

It wasn't just that he had hit her...though that no doubt played a part in her trepidation. No...it was the look on his face, the expression of blind rage twisting his handsome features that continued to haunt her. Something had broken free that night in Johnny; something that was dark and ugly and unspeakable, and instead of holding it back or directing it at something else, he had turned the full brunt of its fury on her. In that moment, just before the knuckles of his hand had crashed against her cheek, the fact that she was his manager, his _girlfriend_...all that had ceased to matter. All that had mattered was silencing her, _punishing _her.

And if he was able to raise his hand against _her_...then what other kinds of destructive mayhem was he capable of creating?

Slowly, with fingers that had lost all feeling, Melina reached out, grasping the door handle. As she did, reality momentarily shimmered, and for a second, she was back in that hotel room, her face pressed against the tangle of sheets, her ears still ringing from the blow. But in the next, the real world reasserted itself, returning to normal, and before she could lose her nerve again, the Dominant Diva twisted the knob sharply to the right, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

The first thing she saw was her suitcase, propped up against the makeup counter. Uttering a low cry of relief, she moved toward it with the exhausted determination of a swimmer paddling toward dry land.

Her hand had just closed around the handle when she heard the door click shut behind her...followed by a familiar voice.

"Hey, Mel."

The paparazzi princess whirled around, banging her hip against the edge of the counter in the process. She bit her lip against the involuntary gasp of pain that followed, holding onto the counter for support, unable to tear her gaze away from the figure in the far corner of the room.

Nitro had already donned his ring attire: sparkly pink-furred pants, fur coat, gold chain around his neck. The only anomalies in his appearance were his sunglasses, on his head instead of covering his eyes...and the expression of pleading contrition on his handsome face.

The self-proclaimed A-lister raised his hands, and Melina couldn't prevent herself from flinching. She instantly hated herself for her show of weakness; one slap, and she had suddenly become gun-shy. The paparazzi princess swallowed hard, trying to force saliva down a throat that had suddenly shrunk to the size of a pinhole. "What...do you want?" she asked, her voice little more than a strangled whisper.

Nitro started to say something, stopped, and then tried again. "I need...I need to talk to you."

The Dominant Diva shook her head slowly. "We have nothing to talk about." Averting her gaze, she turned back toward the makeup counter.

She heard the light scrape of Nitro's boots as he moved toward her, and her fingers immediately curved into claws, her nails clicking against the hard surface of the countertop. It didn't help that she could see his reflection in the mirror, slowly moving toward her, reminding her that he was still present.

The former Intercontinental Champion cleared his throat, his voice hesitant, unsure. "Mel...baby doll..._please_. Last night, I _know_ I fucked up-"

"Fucked up?" Melina repeated incredulously. She looked over her shoulder at her boyfriend, her terror temporarily swallowed up by her disbelievingly astonishment. "Is _that _what you did? You _fucked up_?" She gestured at her bruised eye, still puffy and barely hidden beneath a ton of concealer. "Johnny, _last night_, you did _this_ to me...right after you told me that I was _worthless_, that I was nothing more than a pair of tits that talk_._" The Dominant Diva took a deep breath, tilting her chin up a little. "You did a helluva lot more than just _fuck up_."

"I _know_ that!" Nitro was starting to babble, his words tumbling over one another. "What I did-it was stupid, and low, and inexcusable...and I'm a _bastard_, I'm _scum_ for doing it...but I'm _begging _you, Mel! I'm _begging_ you; _please_ give me another chance!"

"Why should I?" The fear was evaporating; Melina could sense it. In its place, she could feel her old fire, her old fury, starting to return. She stabbed her index finger toward Nitro accusingly. "You _hit _me! You fucked other women and you lied to my _face_-give me _one good reason_ why I should give you _anything_!"

"Because-" the self-proclaimed A-lister sputtered helplessly. "Because-because I love _you_!" Nitro dropped to his knees, holding out his hands imploringly. "Kelly, those other girls...they didn't _mean_ anything-and I _know_ that's what _every _guy says when they fuck up, but it's the _truth_!"

He moved toward her, shuffling awkwardly on his knees, the edges of his fur coat pooling around him. It was so grotesquely comic that Melina would have laughed...if she hadn't been so livid. The former Intercontinental Champion went on. "You're the only one that I care about, Mel; without you, I'm _nothing_!"

_Without that title...I'm nothing..._

Nitro's voice changed slightly, taking on a note of coaxing affection. Melina had heard this tone before; it was the same one he had always used to comfort her when she was upset, and just the sound of it sent an involuntary jolt of nostalgic yearning through her body. "You and me, Mel-that's the way it's always been; just you and me. All we've ever had is each other, even when no one else believed in us. And look at us now-we're the A-listers of Monday Night Raw; we're the people that everyone wants to be. _We proved them wrong_, Mel. And why? Because we don't need anybody else. We _get_ each other. We _understand_ each other. That's why we belong together...because we're the same."

Melina turned away, facing the mirror once again-not because she was through listening to Johnny...but because, in spite of all her resolution, part of her was already starting to relent.

Sure, the former Intercontinental Champion had put her through hell in the last twenty-four hours, in the last _month_...but he hadn't always been like that. Back in the beginning, he'd been all she had. When she had been sent back to OVW while that talentless stripper Candice Michelle hadn't, or when she'd been overlooked for a title opportunity because she was on SmackDown, Johnny had always been there to wipe away her tears; to tell her that it didn't matter, that none of _them_ mattered, because _he _would always be there...and for the most part, he _had _been.

Maybe she didn't love Johnny now, but she had once, and you never really got over that, no matter how bad things got. Things might have gotten rocky between them, but in any relationship, you had to be willing to accept the bad parts with the good...and there was so much in their relationship that had been _good_. Could she really throw all of that away?

Even after all the things he had done...didn't she owe him at least the benefit of a second chance?

The paparazzi princess closed her eyes, shaking her head slowly. "I don't know, Johnny," she finally replied, her tone dubious. "You _hurt_ me. You _hurt _me a _lot_."

"I know I did, baby," Nitro replied soothingly. "And I know that nothing I say or do will ever make it up to you, but I'm hoping..." He paused, rising to his feet, and Melina tensed as he came up behind her, his breath caressing her ear. "...I'm hoping that _this_-" She felt him rotate her hand up, laying something flat and hard in her palm. "-will help."

Melina cautiously opened her eyes, making sure to keep her gaze focused downward. The object that Nitro had placed in her hand was a black rectangular jewelry box, embossed with a border of gold. With fingers that barely trembled, the Dominant Diva flipped open the lid.

Her breath immediately caught in her throat. Nestled inside was a diamond pendant on a slender golden chain. The single stone was large, bigger than any _she_ owned, anyway...and one glance at its flawless clarity told her that it was real.

In that moment, the paparazzi forgot everything-Jeff's touch, his voice, the probing intensity of his green eyes...all she saw was the cold glitter of the gemstone.

Nitro was speaking again. "-I went to Eric Bischoff, and I got him to give me a match...and I want _you_ to be there at ringside when I win. Because once I do, baby, things are going to be just like they were before-"

But Melina had already tuned him out. She pulled the necklace out of the box, her dark eyes following the diamond as it twinkled and caught the light. Her lips moved, and she heard her voice as though from a great distance:

"I'll be there."

She wouldn't realize until later that it was the exact same promise she had made to Jeff Hardy...but by then, it wouldn't matter.

* * *

Jeff hung onto the ropes for support, trying to catch his breath. His body was screaming His mind was racing at a million miles a second, but unfortunately, none of his thoughts were on the match. He was operating on pure instinct right now; it was a miracle he'd survived out here as long as he had.

But how _could _he focus? How could he...when everything was falling apart?

When Maria had told him, between sobs and gasps for breath, that he would be defending his Intercontinental Championship against Johnny Nitro tonight, Jeff's first reaction had been mild surprise. Sure, the match was out of nowhere, but then again, as he'd learned through locker room gossip, one of the self-proclaimed A-lister's first jobs in the WWE had been Eric Bischoff's errand boy; it only made sense that the pretty-boy would somehow manage to weasel a title opportunity out of his former boss.

His next thought had been one of amusement; namely, how Nitro was going to fare without his girlfriend at ringside. Jeff could only imagine the look on the former Intercontinental Champion's face; in fact, he'd even wished the poor bastard good luck...

All of his levity, however, had vanished the instant the familiar squealing guitars blared and _she_ stepped out onto the ramp. Wearing a pink-and-black minidress and a haughty smirk, Melina had sauntered down to the ring, hanging onto Nitro's arm as though nothing had happened, as though it was business as usual, as though the big bruise on her left eye was nothing more than the aftermath of a badly-timed bump. When she'd gotten in the ring, the paparazzi princess had deliberately not looked him in the eye...and the one time their eyes _did_ meet_, _the expression on her face was as though he was little more than something she'd scraped off the sole of her boot.

_All right..._Jeff had told himself, shaken but still generally unworried. _Maybe she's just acting. Maybe she's just playing it up for the camera's sake, for the fans, for Nitro... _But then the match had started, and within the first three minutes, the Charismatic Enigma had gotten knocked halfway out of the ring...and the subsequent slap that Melina nailed him with had been so hard that it had nearly knocked the taste of his mouth.

That was the moment when he started to become concerned, but regardless, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior had tried to soldier on, battling back despite his ever-diminishing focus. When Melina had tripped him up again, in full view of referee Chad Patton this time, and the official had called for the bell, Jeff had been almost relieved. A win by DQ might be a cheap kind of victory, but at least it would allow him to leave the carnival funhouse that this bout had become with his championship reign intact.

But then all of a sudden, Bischoff had emerged, mic in hand, the smarmy unctuousness of his voice echoing throughout the arena. Even now, Jeff could still remember his exact words:

_"Oh, no, no, no! I don't THINK so! That's NOT how this match is going to end! Ref, I want you to restart this match-only THIS time...NO DISQUALIFICATION!"_

Coherent thought had ceased for the younger Hardy brother then; everything that followed was a haze of jumbled awareness and physical response. He felt like he was trapped in some kind of bizarre theatrical drama, where everyone had a script except for him. Fragments of notions were coming together; notions that he did not want but which were germinating nonetheless, formed from little more than wild supposition and scattered scraps of memory...

Melina, tears running down her swollen face...

_It kills me...being around you..._

Melina, staring out the car window, her expression both arrogant and obstinate...

_I don't like you...you don't like me...and that is never going to change..._

Johnny Nitro, sneering down at him...

_You know, Mel...they really ought to stop leaving trash out for beautiful people like you and me to trip over..._

And in what was to be his last rational reflection of the evening, the Charismatic Enigma found himself wondering if all of it-finding Melina, their night together, Nitro's title match, the A-list pair's apparent reconciliation-was more than just random coincidence...

Jeff looked back toward the ring. Nitro was gingerly getting to his feet, still recovering from their collision a few seconds before. The younger Hardy brother's gaze flicked to the side, focusing on the Diva at ringside. Melina, of course, wasn't even looking at him; all her attention was aimed at the self-proclaimed A-lister.

Just witnessing her concern, her _care_, for a man who had put her through hell sent a bolt of rage racing through Jeff's body that was so white-hot and acute that it burned everything else away. With a low roar, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior charged forward, knocking down the newly-vertical Nitro with a hard clothesline. He repeated this action a few more times, waiting until the former Intercontinental Champion had regained his footing before upending him with another forearm blow.

Nitro staggered to his feet once more, and the Charismatic Enigma lashed out with a kick to the gut, doubling the other man over and setting him up for the Twist of Fate. Nitro, incredibly, was able to counter it; twisting free and shoving Jeff toward the corner, but the younger Hardy brother did him one better, leaping up onto the top turnbuckle and launching backward into a picture-perfect Whisper in the Wind.

The offensive maneuver took both men down. Crawling with effort, ignoring the pain ratcheting through his body, Jeff hooked Nitro's leg for the pin.

_1...2..._

Nitro's right shoulder shot off the canvas, and Jeff almost bellowed in frustration. Scrambling to his feet, he nailed the other Superstar in the ribs with a kick, hard enough to send the former Intercontinental Champion rolling out of the ring.

He heard a piercing shriek behind him, and was nearly knocked to his knees as someone latched onto his back. Melina's arms were locked around his neck, her legs kicking wildly on either side of his waist, her very presence evoking a peculiar combination of the most intoxicating desire and the most unforgiving fury.

Her mouth was against his ear, her voice perfectly audible despite the din in the arena, spitting out a frantic plea: "Jeff, please, listen to me-"

But Jeff was beyond hearing. Beyond thinking. Beyond _caring_. The only thing that mattered was this wrath consuming him from within, and how to unleash it in the most effective way possible.

Grabbing a handful of Melina's long reddish-brown locks (locks, which, only a few hours before, he had been running his fingers through), the Charismatic Enigma snapmared her over his shoulder, hurling her down onto the canvas. Storming over to the turnbuckle post, he climbed it, posing in preparation for the Swanton.

Before he could dive down toward the mat, Nitro climbed up onto the apron, grabbing Jeff's ankle and yanking him downwards. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior fell, the turnbuckle post rochambeauing him in the most vulnerable of places. All awareness immediately abandoned him; the only thing that remained was the blinding pain. Jeff fell to the mat, rolling back and forth feebly before finally regaining enough adrenaline to make it to his feet.

As he did so, still clutching himself, he saw that Nitro had reentered the ring as well, and was now charging toward him like a raging bull. Jeff's final thought before the blue-and-gold Intercontinental Championship connected with his skull was _What's that he's carrying?..._

And then, the younger Hardy brother knew nothing.

The cloud of almost-unconsciousness that suddenly eclipsed his brain couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds, but by the time Jeff had regained enough control over his own limbs to shoot his shoulder off the mat, that god-awful guitar was already wailing, and Lillian Garcia's voice was booming in his ears, her normally pleasant tone now as grating as nails on a chalkboard: "..._new_ Intercontinental Champion, _Johnny Nitro_!"

Groaning, the Charismatic Enigma rolled over onto his side, trying to talk through a mouth that felt as though it had been stuffed with sand, trying to explain to Patton that it was a mistake; that he hadn't been incapacitated long enough for a three-count. But for some reason, his words kept emerging as little more than inaudible grunts.

Bracing himself against the inevitable pain, Jeff opened his eyes. Instantly, the pain in his head went up several more degrees; it was as though someone was shining a laser directly into his brain. But yet, the discomfort inside his skull was nothing compared to what he was witnessing before him.

In the center of the ring, Nitro was proudly holding his newly-won championship up with one arm, its faceplace still bearing Jeff's name. His other arm was wrapped around the waist of Melina, who was perched on his hip, her arms entwined around his neck. Her hair had fallen loose of its coiffure and was hanging in her face, and her dazed expression indicated that she probably wasn't too clear on where she was. As Jeff watched wordlessly, she dipped her head down, pressing her lips against Nitro's in a tender kiss.

At this, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior had to look away. Moaning softly in the back of his throat, he rolled over onto his opposite side, drawing his knees up to his chest, wanting nothing more than to curl up into a tiny ball and disappear.

_They set me up. It was all just an act...a scheme to get back the Intercontinental Championship. She never cared about me; she was just using me. They set me up...and I fell for it..._

Jeff ducked his chin down toward his chest, his thoughts little more than dim vibrations underneath the sea of emotions engulfing him.

_She used me...and I fell for it..._

_ I hate her..._

_ I HATE HER...

* * *

_

"Melina! Melina! One more! Over here!"

The Dominant Diva turned stiffly in the required direction, her movements as wooden and lifeless as a mannequin. Her smile was stretched so tight across her face that it felt like a rictus; as though any moment, her skin would split open and her true feelings would spill out onto the floor. Next to her, Nitro remained his usual oblivious self, posing for the flashing bulbs, taking to ensure that his newly-regained Intercontinental Championship featured prominently in every shot...blissfully unaware that the lovely Diva at his side had done everything in her power to keep him from winning it.

Despite his obvious excitement about the match, Johnny had remained surprisingly close-mouthed about its specifics...which was why Melina hadn't learned until they had arrived at gorilla that he would be facing Jeff Hardy.

The bad feeling had started gnawing away at her then, and by the time she reached the ring and subsequently learned that the bout would be for the Intercontinental Championship, her mind was already on overdrive, trying to figure out what to do.

She had purposefully tripped up Jeff to get Nitro disqualified; why else would she have interfered in full view of the referee? She'd had no idea, however, that doing so would bring Eric Bischoff out.

That he would restart the match.

That he would make it No DQ.

When she'd jumped on Jeff's back, it had been to...what? Warn him? Explain to him? She wasn't quite sure anymore, but whatever her reasons had been, it hadn't been enough to prevent Jeff from throwing her down onto the mat...or to stop Johnny from blasting the Rainbow-Haired Warrior in the face with the title belt.

Melina wasn't certain which of the two had been more painful: the impact that tore through her body as her spine met canvas...or the agony that ripped through her heart as Nitro's theme music blared through the arena.

How had this happened? How, in the space of less than a few hours, had things gone from perfect to so horribly, horribly wrong?

That was easy, of course: because of _her_.

Melina looked up at her boyfriend's flushed and happy face, feeling only a numb kind of apathy. _He planned this..._she thought to herself with dull awareness. _He thought this all up before the match even started, before I even got there. He knew...that I've been caught before...and he wanted this to happen. He KNEW this would happen._

_ And Jeff...he thinks...that I knew about this. He thinks...that it's all my fault._

_ And he's right; it is. It IS my fault..._

_ But I didn't know, I swear to GOD I didn't know..._

Her mental lamentations abruptly ceased as, out of the corner of her eye, a familiar head of multi-colored hair moved through the crowd, the movements of its owner unsteady. Melina waited until it had disappeared out of sight before she turned toward Nitro again, hoping that her voice sounded perfectly casual: "Could you excuse me for a moment, Johnny?"

The new Intercontinental Champion didn't even answer; only offered a distracted nod, and the paparazzi princess quietly slipped away. She kept her movements slow, deliberate, until she was certain that she was out of Nitro's line of sight. Then, in a flash, her look of haughty indifference transformed into one of agonized panic; her sultry strut denigrating into an undignified flat-out run.

She had to find him. Nitro, the photographers...none of them mattered. All that mattered right now was finding Jeff.

The Dominant Diva knew from past experience (much of which, she thought with some chagrin, she'd been the cause of) that after a defeat, the Charismatic Enigma tended toward solitude, straying after from the main avenues of traffic. And after turning down the third deserted corridor, she finally found him, limping slightly, clutching his right shoulder.

Melina hesitated, but only for a moment, before barreling after him. Catching up to the younger Hardy brother was no problem; she had run track in a previous life. She grabbed onto Jeff's arm, her fingernails hooking the fabric of his shirt. "Jeff, wait-"

"Don't touch me," the Rainbow-Haired Warrior interrupted brusquely, trying to shake her loose.

Melina resisted his attempts at extrication, sinking her fingers into the meat of his upper arm. "_Please_-"

"_I said DON'T TOUCH ME, you BITCH_!" Jeff roared, whirling around and shoving her away. The push knocked the paparazzi princess back several paces, almost bringing her down to her knees, and for a moment, she stood there, too stunned to speak.

The younger Hardy brother glared at her, his chest heaving as he drew in breath after furious breath. It was clear that he was trying to get himself under control enough to form coherent words. "What's the matter, princess?" His voice was sarcastic...but also laced with a deeply threaded pain. "Huh? You want to gloat some more? Not finished getting a good laugh at the trick you pulled on stupid naive Jeff Hardy?" He paused, though obviously not so she could respond. "You got what you wanted, princess." Another hesitation. "Just...just leave me alone."

"I didn't know," Melina's voice was a halting whisper. She took one tentative step toward Jeff, then another. "You have to _believe_ _me, I didn't know_-"

"Does it really matter, princess?" the Charismatic Enigma interjected harshly. "You still helped your boyfriend win that match. You still helped him and his butt-buddy Eric Bischoff screw me over."

His fists briefly curled into fists, then relaxed. Melina watched them open and close with a kind of detached fascination. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior went on. "You could have walked away. You could have kicked him in the nuts. You could have told him to go fuck himself-but _no_, the only thing you choose to do was go right back to being Johnny Nitro's girlfriend; to pretending like last night, the things he's done, the things he's put you through, never happened!"

Now Jeff was the one to move forward, his voice lowering in volume, softening just a touch. "Did last night mean..._anything_...to you-or was it just an act, too?" His tone, almost gentle, turned rough. Closing the distance between them, he grabbed her upper arm, yanking her against him, spitting his words out through gritted teeth. "Just another unpleasant chore in your plan to get your boyfriend's title back? I'm amazed you were able to swallow your disgust-"

Melina's slap rocked him back a step. The Dominant Diva glared furiously at him, tears already pooling in her dark eyes. "How _dare_ you!" she hissed, her voice choked. "How can you _say _that? How can you _think_ that _I_-"

"Because I don't know what to think, princess!" the younger Hardy brother shot back. "After what just happened, I don't know _what_ to believe anymore! One minute, Johnny Nitro's slapping the shit out of you, and the next, you're helping him win a match." He touched her face, but there was nothing gentle about the way his fingers probed her bruised eye. "Did he even hit you...or did you just run into a door?"

Melina grabbed his hand, pulling it away from her face. "He hit me," she replied flatly. "I never lied about that."

Jeff's expression didn't change. "Well, then, you're not just a liar-you're also the biggest coward on earth." He leaned forward, until his face was almost touching hers. "This guy _lies_ to you, he _cheats_ on you, he _beats _you...but instead of leaving him, you just bury your head in the sand and act like nothing's wrong."

The paparazzi princess tried to speak, but found she couldn't; words had failed her. Without warning, Jeff grabbed hold of the diamond pendant around her neck, yanking it (and her) forward, and nearly strangling her in the process. Ignoring her surprised coughs, he turned his palm upward, scrutinizing the glittering stone nestled in his hand. "Is _this_ the price he paid? For hitting you? Is that how it works? He just buys you a diamond and everything's forgiven?" His emerald irises flicked upward to meet hers. "It's a nice rock. It might not have a nice big shoulder to cry on the next time Nitro cheats on you or hits you...but hey, at least it looks pretty." He abruptly flung the pendant down, as though it had inexplicably morphed into a hot coal.

Melina felt the stone bounce lightly against her breast, breaking the last of her self-control, and she began to cry. The younger Hardy brother watched her weep without pity. "Oh, _here it comes_," he drawled sarcastically. "I've seen _this_ before; those big phony crocodile tears." He tilted his head to the side. "I've fallen for this trick before, princess, but not anymore. I'm done with this." Jeff's green eyes narrowed slightly-was there a flash of pain in their depths? "I'm done with _you_."

The Dominant Diva could barely talk. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, dripping off her chin. Hesitantly, she reached out toward the Rainbow-Haired Warrior again, her arm trembling. "Jeff...p-please_-"_

Jeff instantly swatted her hand away. "_Don't_, princess," A note of warning had crept into his voice. "Just..._don't_." He held up his hand, as though to ward her off. "Do me a favor...and stay away." A pause. "Stay the hell away from me."

"_Jeff_-" Melina tried to plead, but the Charismatic Enigma was already gone, turning a corner and vanishing from her sight before she could even force the words out of her throat. The Dominant Diva stood there, unable to move, unable to _breathe_. She could feel a cry building up inside of her; a low keening wail that would go on and on if she allowed it to escape.

And she knew, with an absolute certainty, that she was going to throw up.

There was a bathroom a few yards down the hall; Melina burst into it, tripping and breaking one of her stiletto heels in the process before collapsing in front of the nearest toilet, legs splayed out on either side of her. She retched, vomiting the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl, hot and sour and scorching her throat.

When her insides had finally ceasing emptying themselves, the paparazzi princess half-limped, half-crawled to the sink, using it for support as she shakily pulled herself up to her feet. Turning on the water, she caught the clear liquid in her hand, using it to wash away her tears, the traces of bile clinging to the corners of her mouth.

Too bad she couldn't use it to cleanse herself of her past misdeeds...or the aura of cowardice and shame that she couldn't quite manage to scrub free.

Too bad...it couldn't wash away the past.

Melina lifted her gaze, eying her reflection in the mirror. The image staring back at her looked empty, haunted, more like a corpse than a living human being; nothing like the conceited Diva who had helped Johnny Nitro steal back his title...and certainly nothing like the optimistic young woman who had exited Jeff Hardy's car this afternoon.

Melina's eyes drifted downward, focusing on the single diamond nestled in the hollow of her throat. All of a sudden, her throat swelled shut, and she couldn't breathe; it was as though all of the air had been snatched from her lungs. She could have sworn that she felt the necklace shrink a size or two; she actually felt the chain digging into her neck.

The paparazzi princess clawed at the piece of jewelry, trying to pull it away from her neck, trying to give herself some room to breathe. Her fingers looped around the chain, but nothing happened; her body was still devoid of air. Already, she was starting to become light-headed, her vision blurring into bright blobs of color.

As Melina stood there helplessly, fast nearing unconsciousness, memories washed over her, both pleasant and painfully poignant:

_Jeff, looking down at her, both of them near that rapturous moment of release..._

_ "Open your eyes for me, princess. Please. I just want to look into your eyes..."_

_ His hands on her face, her body..._

_ "You're so beautiful..."_

_ The parking lot, the wind whipping around them..._

_ "Do you want this?"_

_ Do you want this?..._

With a low SNAP, the chain broke, and Melina coughed as precious oxygen flooded her lungs, reviving her. The Dominant Diva collapsed against the sink, inhaling and exhaling gratefully. The diamond pendant was still clenched in one hand; with a strangled cry, she threw it from her. She didn't turn to see where it landed; it could have gone down the drain for all she cared. Instead, she lifted her head, staring once again at her reflection in the silvered glass.

Her lips moved, pouring out words, her voice thick with tears. "I wanted it." She hesitated. "I wanted you."

Melina bowed her head, her reddish-brown curls falling and obscuring her face. Her voice shook, broke, but she forced herself to say it...because, sadly, it was the unavoidable and heart-wrenching truth. Too bad that no one would ever know it.

Too bad that Jeff would never know it.

"I...I l-love y-you..."

Collapsing to the floor, the Dominant Diva sobbed in misery.


	21. Chapter 21: Suffocate Me

**A/N: YAAAAY for new chapters! I have been so bad with the FF lately; my thesis has been kicking my ass and I also just got back from a week-long film festival. I'm so behind on reviewing, so for those of you whose work I read; I'm not ignoring you, I just haven't had time to read lately. But starting tomorrow, I will be working on getting caught up with my reviews.**

**In the meantime, enjoy this brand new chapter! I've been out of the FF loop long enough that I'm not up to full writer's strength, but I thought it turned out all right. Hopefully, y'all will enjoy it.**

**A/A/N: The song in the beginning is "Suffocate" by Cold; all rights, etc. belong to them.**

**Thank you to** extremist, kyahbell, A Believer of Many Things, wwechick24, BigRedMachineUK, cherrycokerocks, **and **FANOFJOLINASPUFFY **for your reviews! You are all AWESOME, and you know that I love every single one of you. Peace!

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Chapter 21: Suffocate Me

_**I could take every fucking word she says**_

_**Throw it in her face**_

_**But would she even care?**_

_**I still remember when she looked at me**_

_**That frown upon her face**_

_**Trying to be sincere**_

_**I gathered all those little things she said**_

_**Kept them close to me**_

_**Trying to make this real**_

_**This cloud will always hover over me**_

_**I'm leaving you today**_

'_**Cause now I see...**_

The Charismatic Enigma stumbled unsteadily down the hallway, nearly losing his balance and grabbing onto a nearby equipment crate for support. His whole body was ablaze with pain; his head in particular was throbbing. All around him, the crisp outlines of objects were blurring, smearing into bright streams of color, and there was a faint high-pitched ringing in his ears.

In the back of his mind, Jeff knew that it might be a good idea to head to the trainer's and get checked out-Nitro's cheap shot with the Intercontinental Championship belt might have given him a mild concussion. But the Rainbow-Haired Warrior merely gritted his teeth against the discomfort, resuming his aimless shuffling gait.

After what he had just endured, he could care less about any potential concussion; he could pass out in the middle of this corridor and not give a damn. At least unconsciousness would bring with it blissful oblivion, a welcome respite from the sensations bombarding his brain; images and sounds that kept echoing themselves like the harsh staccato stutter of a skipping CD.

Nitro towering above him, hoisting the blue-and-gold title belt triumphantly over his head...

_Your NEW Intercontinental Champion, Johnny Nitro..._

_ ..._Melina, her legs locked around the self-proclaimed A-lister's waist, her lips pressed tenderly to his...

_I don't love him anymore...I've found someone else..._

...the paparazzi princess chasing after him, those fake tears of hers staining her cheeks, reaching out to him, still trying to beseech him when he was past the point of all pity...

_I didn't know...You have to believe me, I DIDN"T KNOW..._

...and his rejection of her-her lies, her tricks, her manipulations; spitting out one final remark in a choked growl before turning his back on her for good...

_Do me a favor and stay away...stay the hell away from me..._

Bile abruptly climbed up Jeff's throat, and he ground to a shaky halt, hunching over and coughing violently. Thankfully, the only thing that emerged was a gob of bloody saliva, and the Charismatic Enigma spat this onto the concrete, staggering toward the wall and slumping against it, sliding down toward the floor. He tilted his head up, gazing stupidly at the unremarkable ceiling above him, squinting his emerald irises against the unforgiving glare of the fluorescent bulbs.

He had once told Melina (it seemed like ages ago now; had it really only been last night?) that there was nothing in this world that hurt worse than missing the Swanton Bomb. He'd been wrong-_this_..._this _was far worse, because the pain wasn't in his body this time, but in his _soul_...and even though the marks from these wounds weren't visible, that didn't make their agony any less exquisite. His heart felt like it had literally been torn in half, as though it was nothing more than a paper cutout ripped right down the middle by some careless child.

_And that child is Melina..._the Rainbow-Haired Warrior thought dully to himself. _Only she's no child...she knew EXACTLY what she was doing when she came to my room last night..._

_ She knew that I was falling for her...and she used that...she used ME...just like she's used everyone else..._

At the thought of the Dominant Diva, Jeff felt a muted flutter in his chest, as though his heart had just skipped a beat. He could feel his mind shutting down, sectioning itself off from the pain as it is wont to do in times of great emotional distress, a cold heavy numbness infusing into his limbs.

The Charismatic Enigma jerked his head backward suddenly, the back of his head connecting with the unyielding cinderblock surface of the wall. The blow brought involuntary tears to his eyes, but Jeff merely clenched his teeth and clung to the bright hot bubble of pain that rippled upward, wrapping his wounded psyche around its warmth like a person cupping their hand around the weak flame of a lit match.

As he did, a thought surged forth, bursting through the mental scab covering his emotional wounds, bouncing around his head, ricocheting off the insides of his skull. _There was a time...when I could have looked into her eyes...and sworn that she felt the same way about me as I did about her..._

_ So when did it become a lie? When did it stop being real?_

Jeff squeezed his eyes closed, unable to keep tears-_real _tears this time-from trickling down his cheeks.

_Or was it ever real in the first place?_

Everyone had tried to warn him. Everyone-from Maria to his older brother-had tried to tell him that Melina was nothing but trouble...but as usual, instead of taking their advice, he had refused to listen, barreling stubbornly on ahead until there was no chance of turning back, until there was no other alternative but to crash and burn, both physically...and emotionally.

He could hear Matt's voice in his head, his mind for once disregarding the hated "I'm three years older and thus know what's best for you" tone and instead hearing the _words_, finally comprehending what his brother had been trying to tell him all along...

_I've never understood why you have to do things the hard way...why it's always 'my way and everyone else can suck it' with you..._

_ Maria adores you...and you're going to risk it all just so you can fool around with the bitchy girl that no one likes?..._

Jeff started to reply, but already, Matt's voice was melting away, replaced by the countenance of his lovely Maria, her green eyes wide and full of a heartbroken hope-

_So there's NOTHING going on?..._

-and his own voice, stammering out a promise that he had to have known, even then, he was always destined to break...

_NOTHING...I swear..._

_ I promise..._

Jeff slowly opened his eyes, staring listlessly at a point directly in front of him. It wasn't too late. He had made a catastrophic mistake, had fucked things up past all repair...but there was still something within his power to fix. Something he could make _right_.

And maybe, by doing it...he could finally assuage some of this anger, some of this pain, some of this _guilt_...and find peace.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior carefully rose to his feet, resuming his trek down the hall. His movements, though unsteady, were no longer aimless.

He knew where he was going now.

* * *

Maria was still wearing her on-camera attire-a purple minidress and brown high-heeled boots-but now had a gray zip-up sweatshirt draped across her shoulders. For all her wrestling inexperience, the backstage reporter was proving to be quite resilient; despite the beating she had suffered at the hands of Umaga, she was alert and sitting up when Jeff found her in the trainer's room, sipping water from a paper cup.

However, Maria's pale complexion was a few shades whiter than normal, the dark circles under her eyes standing out like bruises, and from the way she was leaning heavily on the trainer's arm for support as she drank...she was obviously still in a lot of pain.

Standing in the doorway, staring at her, Jeff felt an upwelling of guilt so acute that it seemed like his insides were folding themselves up like dinner napkins. It was all his fault; _he should have been there_. Whether he loved Maria or not, he still _cared_ about her, and as her boyfriend, it was his job to _protect_ her, to _save_ her from any potential harm.

But instead, he had done neither. He had been so focused on Melina, on the betrayal that he had suffered at the hands of the paparazzi princess, that he had forgotten about the one woman who genuinely cared about him...and he had let her down. And it didn't matter that John Cena had ultimately come to her aid, saving her from any further injury-what mattered was those few agonizing minutes when Maria had been totally alone, completely at the mercy of the Samoan Bulldozer...and perhaps knowing already, even if only at the back of her mind, that Jeff wasn't going to save her...

He hadn't been there. Maria had forgiven him, believed in him, _trusted _him..but yet, at the one time when she truly needed his help, he hadn't been there to save her.

He hadn't been there. _He hadn't been there_.

The Charismatic Enigma let out a choked noise that was almost a sob, and at the sound, the backstage reporter glanced over. Her beautiful face immediately lit up with a sunny smile at the sight of him, but it was strained and laced with barely concealed pain. "Hey, you," she whispered, her voice soft, but still full of affection.

Without speaking, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior strode into the room, closing the distance between them, pulling Maria into his arms and holding her tight against his chest. Maria let out a tiny squeak of surprise. "Whoa there, Jeff! Not so hard; I still feel like I've been hit by a truck-" Nevertheless, she returned the embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder.

Jeff loosened his grip, but never let go of her. Pressing his mouth against her ear, he murmured one phrase over and over again like a mantra, his Southern accent even thicker with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry, 'Ria...I'm so sorry..."

* * *

Nitro slid the key card into the slot, fumbling for a moment before the light flashed green, allowing him to push the handle down and open the door. Stepping inside and snapping on the overhead light, the new Intercontinental Champion popped his head back out, gazing expectantly at his girlfriend. "Hey, Mel, you coming?"

The Dominant Diva didn't respond at first, but after a long moment, she turned her head, her dark eyes shifting from an unseen point in space to focus on the self-proclaimed A-lister. She was careful to keep her expression pleasantly neutral, trying to pass her lack of enthusiasm off as merely exhaustion, using these few seconds as an opportunity to study her boyfriend for the first time.

He was handsome-she would always be the first to admit that; his looks had been the first thing that had drawn her to him. Right now, the new Intercontinental Champion was even more appealing than usual, his perfect features flushed with confidence (and a little too much alcohol), an easy smile on his lips.

Peering deep into his eyes, Melina saw no trace of that blank rage, that terrifying dark other who had reared his ugly head and struck her down last night. But at the same time...she saw no real love, either. Affection, yes; lust, _definitely_...but there was none of that intensity, that deep burning passion she had seen smoldering in Jeff's green eyes as he made love to her-that same passion, she now realized, that had been in every look the younger Hardy brother had ever given her.

Even tonight, after the match, as he was telling her that he never wanted to see her again...she had still glimpsed that intense attraction in the depths of his gaze, glinting behind the anger and the pain, like a dying ember that is not quite extinguished.

Did he love her? Probably.

Did she love him? Oh, most definitely.

But what good was love, when the words themselves remained unspoken? She had never gotten the chance to tell the Rainbow-Haired Warrior how she really felt-and now, thanks to Eric Bischoff, thanks to Johnny, thanks to her own blind cowardice...she never would.

_Johnny needs me..._the paparazzi princess thought, her mind reluctantly returning to her boyfriend. _He probably even cares about me...but he doesn't love me. _

_ Maybe...he never did._

And for a few dizzying instants, the Dominant Diva wondered if she would be able to live like this: going through the motions with Johnny while always remembering what it had been like with Jeff; going back to the way things used to be after finally, _finall_y_, _experiencing how they could have been-

The response that came to her was filled with such a chalky bitterness that it was a struggle to keep it from registering on her face. She was Melina Perez, the paparazzi princess, the Dominant Diva. She didn't have a heart. She didn't _need_ a heart. She would always, _always_, do what was necessary to further her career...no matter what.

_I do what I have to...consequences be damned..._

Melina closed her eyes, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair back behind her ear. Without speaking, she eased past Johnny into the room. The new Intercontinental Champion followed her, the door clicking shut softly behind him.

* * *

Maria pushed Jeff down onto the bed, kissing him passionately. Climbing on top of him, she took hold of his shirt, yanking it up over his head and tossing it impatiently to the side. Jeff allowed her to do so, albeit a little more reluctantly than any other guy in his exact situation would have done.

Following the clusterfuck that had been Monday Night Raw, the backstage reporter and the Rainbow-Haired Warrior had headed out to the nearest bar to commiserate about their respective matches. For Jeff, it had been an opportunity to-if not banish the paparazzi princess from his thoughts-at least burn her out temporarily with booze, and so he had consumed more alcohol than he had in a long time.

When Maria had asked if they could hang out in his hotel room for a while, the younger Hardy brother had been more than happy to comply. Of course, drunken dumbass that he was, he hadn't fully grasped that the backstage reporter's intentions might be less than innocent until the door had closed behind them and Maria had pounced on him like a jungle cat in heat.

Now, lying on the unmade double bed, shirtless, with a beautiful woman straddling his waist, Jeff realized that he was of two minds regarding the entire situation. Part of him (the alcohol-and-testosterone fueled caveman part of him) was thoroughly enjoying this, really to follow this scenario to its inevitable conclusion.

However, there was another part that, in spite of all the booze he had ingested, remained stone-cold sober, and it was this aspect of his psyche that kept clamoring from the back of his head, the sound of it like the irritating buzz of a clock radio alarm, filling him with an unknown sense of resistance.

Which was stupid. He had once dived out a hotel window on a whim-and right now was the complete opposite; he was on the verge of getting some from a hot girl who wanted him. This...this was he _wanted_.

Right?

Maria broke off the kiss suddenly, sitting up, and Jeff took the opportunity to catch his breath. "'Ria, wait a second," he managed to gasp out. "Are you sure you want to...I mean, after what you went through tonight..."

His voice trailed off as Maria stripped off her tank top. She wore nothing on underneath, and the sight of her nude upper body was enough to stun the two conflicting halves of his mind into silence. The backstage reporter leaned down, her expression still softly angelic, although she was no doubt enjoying the effect she was having on the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. "I'm fine," the Raw Diva assured him. "The pain's gone. Besides..."

Maria paused, bending down even further, until her face was almost touching Jeff's. Opening her mouth, she trailed the tip of her tongue across his lower lip. "...you don't know how badly I want you right now," she finished, her voice a breathy whisper.

The younger Hardy brother didn't answer; he was too busying drinking in her presence, the delicate lines of her face. Maria ground her hips against his, evoking a pleasurable gasp from the Charismatic Enigma. "Close your eyes," she murmured.

Jeff complied, and when Maria's lips grazed his, he returned the kiss hungrily, only it was no longer Maria he was kissing; in his mind's eye-

-_it was Melina, her mouth moving against his, the heated weight of her hair brushing past his face, her breasts pressing against his bare chest. _

_ Wrapping his arms around her slender frame, Jeff rolled over so that he was on top, pinning the Dominant Diva beneath the weight of his body without crushing her. Sliding his mouth along the line of her jaw, he kissed her neck, each soft brush of his lips on her skin bringing forth a rapturous moan from the paparazzi princess. _

_ Jeff moved lower, losing himself in the smell of her scent, the salty-sweet taste of her skin. Running his tongue along the curve of her navel, he paused at the waistband of her jeans, undoing the top button and tugging the zipper down a few notches. _

_ He could feel her hands on his head, her fingers tenderly stroking his hair, and with a satisfied sigh, the younger Hardy brother wrapped his arms around her tiny waist, pressing his face against her abdomen. "Melina..." he murmured drowsily. "I missed you, princess..."_

"Jeff?"

The Charismatic Enigma froze, Maria's voice shattering the illusion with the same abruptness that a rock shatters a glass plate window. Jeff sat up, involuntary tremors gripping his body as the last of the fantasy melted away. He was still where he had imagined himself to be, but it was _Maria's_ body that he held in his arms, _Maria's_ skin beneath his hands, _Maria's _green eyes gazing lazily back at him.

The backstage reporter stretched languidly, a small smile touching her lips. "What is it, Jeff?"

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior said nothing; only pressed the back of his hand against his mouth as awareness crashed over him like a bucket of cold water. The sober part of his brain had regained its voice...and it was screaming, the sound of its cries growing louder and louder, spitting out one word over and over again:

_No no no no no no-_

Maria's smile vanished, her eyes opening wider. Pushing herself up onto her elbows, she peered at her boyfriend, concern creeping across her delicate features. "Jeff? What's wrong?"

Jeff didn't answer; he could barely hear anything past the voice in his head, which had risen to the volume of a fire bell...

_No no no no no no-_

"_Jeff_!" the backstage reporter cried, her voice shrill with concern. Sitting up fully, she grabbed hold of the younger Hardy brother's wrist-but as soon as her fingers touched his skin, Jeff pulled his hand free with a panicked gasp, backing away from Maria and nearly falling off the bed in the process. His emerald eyes were still glazed and a little unfocused...but they now held the unmistakable bright gleam of fear.

Maria looked dumbstruck. "Jeff?" Her jaw trembled, her green irises already filling with tears. "Jeff...is it..." She stopped, unable to even voice the thought.

The Charismatic Enigma didn't respond. He couldn't speak; could barely even _think_ of anything more complex than the most basic and instinctive of notions. He couldn't explain it to her; he wasn't sure he could explain it to himself.

As a rule, the most profound of insights rarely come to us in one fully formed chunk, but rather, in a single instant of intuition. That was what had happened to the Rainbow-Haired Warrior...and what he had realized in that one moment was that no matter how much he tried, no matter how much he lied and pretended to believe otherwise, he would never be able to feel that way about Maria...because he didn't love her.

_He didn't love her_.

Jeff rose to his feet, backing away from the bed, his eyes traveling to the ceiling, the floor, the chair, the nightstand-anywhere but the stunned countenance of Maria. "I don't-" His tone was full of a dazed confusion. "-feel so well..." Staggering backward, he ducked into the bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him.

The younger Hardy brother barely made it the few steps to the sink before he vomited; a hot sour stream of liquid and barely digested chunks of food. Jeff relinquished himself to the uncontrollable response, waiting until his retching had slowed to dry heaves before turning on the water and washing the contents of his stomach down the drain. Catching the flow of water in his cupped hands, he splashed it onto his face.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior stared into the sink, into the unblinking black eye of the drain, water dripping from his nose and eyelashes. His thoughts were a jumble, a barely coherent mixture of notions and feelings that refused to stay silent.

_Why did I come back? _

_ Why did I go to Raw instead of SmackDown? _

_ Why did I meet you?_

_ Why did I-_

"Stop," the Charismatic Enigma whispered harshly, but it was too late; too late to stop the thought from slipping free and blossoming into absolute truth.

_Why did I fall in love with you...princess?

* * *

_

Melina ducked her head, tugging the brim of her black cadet cap down a little further as she wheeled her suitcase behind her. She, along with the rest of the Raw roster, was at the Braehead Arena in Glasgow, Scotland for the first leg of their European tour. Normally, the paparazzi princess relished performing for the WWE's international fans, but right now, she could care less.

Since the beginning of the week, after the disastrous events of Monday night, the Dominant Diva's life had become one unending "To Do" list. Get to the airport. Get to the arena. Get to the dressing room. Get to the ring-every small chore in her life becoming a task that she had to accomplish, a line item that she could focus all of her attention on...and thus allowing her to avoid dwelling on all the things in her existence that were so terribly, terribly wrong.

Like how miserable she felt now...or how alone.

As though to emphasize this point, Johnny (in true form) had already abandoned her, no doubt heading off to brag about his recent title win to anyone unfortunate enough to be within earshot. In truth, though, Melina was glad for his absence. It was easier to function when he wasn't around-not having to fake her enthusiasm, or her _desire_, or trying to hide how unhappy she was.

It was a double-edged sword, however; when Johnny was gone, it only reminded her that someone else was, too. Someone whose absence haunted her just as much as Nitro's presence.

Someone who mattered far more to her than any self-proclaimed A-lister-

Melina sucked in her breath sharply, her eyelids fluttering shut for a moment. Every time she thought about Jeff, or even the _suggestion_ of him, her heart would clench within her chest, as though someone was crushing it into powder. It _hurt_, far worse than any bump she had taken in the ring, far greater than any slight she had ever suffered. That was why she needed to stay in motion, to keep focusing on the next item on her list, because every time she stopped moving; every time she paused and allowed herself to think about the younger Hardy brother, she wanted to die...

The paparazzi princess could sense figures moving past her; other Superstars skirting around her and giving her a wide berth. Melina didn't look up-she already knew what she would find in their expressions, and for once, the Dominant Diva had no desire to confront it head-on. The general opinions of the Raw and SmackDown rosters usually failed to interest her-she had always chalked their petty animosity up to jealousy-but now, for the first time, Melina didn't think she could absorb their judgment without breaking apart.

Partly because the thick skin she had once used to shield her emotions had taken such a beating in the past week that she was no longer certain of its ability to protect her...and partly because she doubted that the other Superstars and Divas hated her _nearly_ as much as she despised herself.

As the paparazzi princess moved down the main corridor toward the locker room, she suddenly felt _something_; a ripple across her senses, as though something was calling them back into awareness. Melina's pace slowed, then stopped...and all at once, a wave of familiarity washed over her with such acuity that it snatched the air from her lungs.

The Dominant Diva whirled around, a startled gasp escaping her throat, her normally confident tone little more than a breathless whisper: "_Jeff_?"

The hallway was far from deserted, filled with Superstars, crew members, and other backstage personnel...but none of them was the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. The paparazzi princess stared at the sea of people, her expression sagging almost imperceptibly, before sighing softly and turning away.

As soon as she did so, however, she froze, unable to tear her gaze from the individual storming down the corridor toward her. Matt Hardy's normally amiable countenance was fixed into one of stony determination, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Melina felt all the breath abruptly leave her body, as though someone had just punched her in the stomach, and she was vaguely aware to two distinct yet unconnected thoughts.

The first was that her intuition hadn't been _too _far off; right family, _wrong brother_.

The second was that she was pretty sure-from the way Matt's face darkened with anger at the sight of her, the way his pace quickened as soon as he did-that the elder Hardy brother had come here looking for _her_.

The Dominant Diva looked around frantically, trying to find a possible avenue of escape; someplace she could duck into and elude the SmackDown Superstar's wrath. To her left stretched an empty hallway, and the paparazzi princess took it without thinking, walking quickly at first, then running, her suitcase rolling and bouncing unsteadily behind her.

She reached the end, turned the corridor...and immediately let out a low cry of disappointment when she discovered that she had run smack into a dead end. Her wail quickly morphed into a strangled shriek of fear as the elder Hardy brother's hand closed around her upper arm. Matt swung Melina around roughly, practically shoving her against the wall and tearing loose her grip on her suitcase. With his free hand, he knocked the cadet hat from her head, bringing his furious expression into full view.

For one terrifying second, the paparazzi princess was certain that Matt was going to hit her; that he was going to beat her senseless in this dead end, and no one would even bother to come to her aid. But the elder Hardy brother merely leaned in until his nose was nearly bumping hers, his dark eyes narrowed, spitting out words in a clipped murmur that was filled with far more self-control than his countenance would suggest: "You must be _pretty_ fuckin' proud of yourself,"

Melina could only stare dumbly up at him. Matt rushed on, not even bothering to wait for a response. "It wasn't enough, was it? Cheating and stealing Jeff's title? No...you just _had _to mess with him, didn't you? You just _had_ to manipulate him like you do _everyone else_, using whatever kind of fucked-up crush he's got on you to _fuck _with his head!"

The Dominant Diva looked away, biting her lip. Matt immediately grabbed her chin, forcing her to face him again. His thumb and index finger dug painfully into her jaw, but Melina refused to give the elder Hardy brother the satisfaction of seeing her flinch; merely stared mutely back at him.

Matt paused, drawing in a breath. There was a kind of cold hatred in his gaze-perhaps he was recalling all the times that MNM had screwed him over. His voice was low, so low that no one save the two of them could have heard it: "Let me ask you this-because I can't get a straight answer out of my brother one way or the other." His dark eyes bore into hers. "Did you sleep with him?"

Melina blinked in surprise, unable to believe that she was hearing this. The elder Hardy brother continued. "Huh? Did you actually carry the charade that far before you cut his balls off?" The SmackDown Superstar's expression hardened briefly, his eyes like glittering patches of black ice. "Because if you did, then you're a bigger whore than I thought-"

Anger tore through the Dominant DIva's tiny frame, so rapidly and unexpectedly that it burned through the damp haze of her misery. With a furious screech, Melina twisted free of Matt's grip, backing away from the elder Hardy brother. "_Fuck you!_" the paparazzi princess spat. She went on before the SmackDown Superstar could warp that particular epithet into another derogatory remark, jabbing herself in the chest with her index finger. "What do you want me to say? That it was my fault?" The Dominant Diva shrugged helplessly, throwing her arms out to either side. "Fine! It was my fault! _It was my fault_!"

At this, she thought she saw Matt's expression falter just a touch. Whatever he had been expecting from her during this exchange...it probably hadn't been this. The paparazzi princess continued. "Johnny _stole_ that title from Jeff...and I-" Her voice quavered for a moment. "-I didn't do anything to _stop_ it. I..._let_...it happen...and now...he _hates _me."

Melina stopped, hesitated...and then, without warning, her emotional floodgates burst, her delicate features crumbling as she began to bawl. "_He hates me_!" the Dominant Diva sobbed. "But not..._nearly_...as much...as I hate myself."

Still crying, she held out her hands toward the elder Hardy brother, the gesture almost pleading. "I hate feeling like this, do you understand? I would give _anything_ not to feel like this! It's like..." She pressed her palm to her chest, her gaze sliding down toward the floor. "...like someone ripped my heart...right out of my chest."

The paparazzi princess slowly sank to her knees, still talking, her voice growing distant, almost faraway. "Every second that I spend with Johnny now...I feel like I'm trapped in a nightmare, like I'm on some fucked-up carnival ride that won't stop spinning. And the only thing that's _real_ anymore, the only thing that makes _sense_...is when I was with Jeff. But I don't know how to _fix_ it; I don't know how to make it better..." Her voice broke again, and she fell silent, fresh tears brimming at the edges of her lashes, her gaze still fixed on the floor.

It was a long while before Matt spoke, and when he did, his voice was tight and emotionless. "Why should I believe a word you're saying?"

Melina looked up at him, her jaw dropping, her countenance incredulous. "I don't give a _damn _if you believe me or not!" she retorted, her tone just as stunned as her expression. She tilted her chin up a little, her own eyes narrowing. "But tell me...what reason do I have to lie?"

At this, the elder Hardy brother flinched, his mouth moving soundlessly for a moment or two before he finally succeeded in snapping it closed. As the anger momentarily drained from his expression, Melina thought she caught a flash of involuntary love in the edges of his gaze; the kind of protective affection that exists between siblings. Matt Hardy might not always get along with his younger brother...but it was obvious, evidenced by his very presence, that he would always fight for him.

Melina carefully got to her feet, picking up her discarded cap, neither expecting nor receiving any help from the elder Hardy brother. As much as she admired Matt's innate protectiveness toward his younger sibling, that didn't change the fact that he had chased her, thrown her against the wall, and read her the Riot Act without even bothering to consider that there might be another side to the story.

"You want the truth?" The paparazzi princess's voice was low but harsh. Her dark eyes flicked to the side, meeting Matt's. "I slept with Jeff." She wished she could have stopped to enjoy the almost comic look of surprise that swept over the elder Hardy brother's face, but the Dominant Diva was too busy barreling on, her tone growing bitter. "I _slept _with him...and it was the best goddamn night of my life!"

The words poured out of her mouth, picking up speed. "But I fucked it up. I fucked it _all up_...and _now_ he _hates _me..." A pause. "...and now, I want to die."

Melina straightened up to her full height, staring into Matt's eyes with absolutely no intimidation now. "Are you happy?" she whispered, her voice gradually rising to a shout. "_Are you happy now_? Is that what you wanted to hear, _you son of a bitch_?"

Her voice abruptly left her, and rather than face the SmackDown Superstar any longer, the paparazzi princess turned to go, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Before she could take a step, however, Matt's voice stopped her. "How long?"

The Dominant Diva took a deep breath, not turning around. "How long _what_?" she shot back roughly.

Matt's reply came a few seconds later, the sound of his voice soft, almost gentle: "How long...have you been in love with my brother?"

Just hearing it uttered, that one truth she could barely even admit to herself, was enough to make Melina's beautiful features collapse in pain. She pressed her hand over her mouth, trying to rein in her tears. "I don't know..." she admitted after a long while, her voice thick and choked. Then, in a slightly more dubious tone: "Why do _you _care?"

She heard Matt shift his weight on the balls of his feet, and somehow had the impression that he was tilting his chin up to study her more carefully. His tone was thoughtful, almost matter-of-fact: "Because maybe...I can help you."

At this, Melina whirled around, her jaw dropping, her eyes widening in shock. Matt went on, as though he'd done nothing more extreme than ask her to water his plants. "It won't be easy, though. First...you have to do something for me." He paused, the look in his eyes almost challenging. "Get my brother's title back."

The paparazzi princess's eyes grew even bigger; her jaw was practically scraping the ground. The elder Hardy brother continued. "Jeff told me...he's cashing in his rematch clause during the Raw broadcast from Manchester; make it then. If you can do that, then _maybe _I can do somethi-"

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute!" Melina interrupted brusquely, waving her hand frantically for quiet. She had finally regained her voice. "Why-why are you helping me?" She peered critically at the SmackDown Superstar, wondering if she had just hallucinated this part of the conversation.

Matt held up his index finger, like a teacher about to make a very important point. "Let's get one thing straight: I'm not doing this for _you_. As far as I'm concerned, I don't trust, like, or feel sorry for you...and I don't see any reason to change that opinion, no matter what my brother says."

Melina gritted her teeth, forcing herself not to smack the elder Hardy brother right across his holier-than-thou countenance. "Then why _are_ you?" she shot back, her tone just as defiant as his.

The SmackDown Superstar stared at her for a moment, and in that instant, his features softened a touch, infused with that protective affection she had glimpsed earlier. "Because my brother's in pain," he gradually replied, his voice slow and regretful. "And I hate seeing him in pain...and because, as crazy as it sounds, I just can't shake this idea that _you're_ the only one who can make it go away. Like...for some reason, you're each what the other one needs."

Melina gazed back at him, and for a second, something, some mutual understanding, passed between them...but in the next, it was gone. The elder Hardy brother looked down, coughing impatiently. "Like I said, get my brother's title back first. _Then_...I'll see what I can do." Without adding anything further, he eased around her, going back the way he had entered.

The Dominant Diva watched him depart, feeling an unfamiliar sensation welling up inside her; it took her a moment or two to realize that it was _hope_. The last time she had felt like this, it had been the day after Cyber Sunday. She had been standing in a strip mall parking lot, staring up into Jeff's emerald eyes-

But she couldn't afford to dwell on that at the moment. Right now, all of her focus needed to be on the new item on her checklist, the latest agenda that Matt Hardy had set for her. Because things could never go back to the way they had been; she understood that now. She should have realized during the night she spent in Jeff's arms that they were both lost now, that they had both crossed a line they could never return back over.

On that night, he had been ready to fight for her...perhaps it was time that she fought for him. Somehow, in three days, she was going to walk down to that ring as Johnny Nitro's manager...and help Jeff Hardy win his Intercontinental Championship back.

There was only one problem, as far as she could see.

She had no idea how she was going to do it.


	22. Chapter 22: Just Let Me Go

**A/N: YAY for new chapters! Gawd, it has been a hellish semester; I really just want the school to give me my piece of paper and be done with it. I just got back from my spring break in Florida and banged out this chapter (You can tell, at the end, where it starts to reek of 4AM) Sorry for any typos; I TRY, but I SWEAR that they BREED while I'm not looking. And of course, I hope that you enjoy the chapter, b/c that is most important to me.**

**The lyrics in the beginning are from "Hostage" by Digital Summer; all rights, etc. belong to them.**

**Thank you to **cherrycokerocks, PrettyReckless09, Esha Napoleon, BigRedMachineUK, kyahbell, FANOFJOLINASPUFFY, extremist, rebelwilla, LetNys, depfan, feartheSPEAR, XxXMXxX, GoGoGurl, Molly J, XxMoonlightCharmxX, wwefan176xxX, ** and **skg16 **for reviewing the last chapter. Good gravy, way to make me feel like a total slacker, lol. LOVE YAS! PEACE!

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Chapter 22: Just Let Me Go

_**It's all right to hate me**_

_**I don't mind if you leave**_

_**But it's not all right for you to say you love me**_

_**And this time**_

_**I've finally had enough**_

'_**Cause I've tried**_

_**I should've given up**_

_**Now I'm just another casualty**_

_**Take what you want**_

_**Just let me go**_

_**Take what you need**_

_**And leave me alone...**_

Jeff laced his fingers together, stretching his arms up over his head as he arched his upper body first to the left, then to the right. His lower back-permanently ravaged from a career of daredevil maneuvers-instantly protested, sending a series of painful twinges up the length of his spine, but for once, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior welcomed the discomfort. The sensation might be far from pleasant...but it was also what he needed.

The pain...it was the same reason he was stretching in the loading dock of the Manchester News Arena without a jacket, shivering in the brisk November night air. It was the reason the music blasting through his earbuds was cranked to a nearly excruciating volume level. Pain was the one element that he could count on; the sole factor that he could truly trust to be real.

It was the only thing that allowed him to focus anymore...and the only thing which kept him from thinking about..._her_.

The Charismatic Enigma sagged back against the riveted metal side of one of the equipment trucks, ripping the earbuds out of his ears and squeezing his eyes closed as he sucked in a big gulp of air. Just the _suggestion_ of Melina, the barest outline of the thought of her, made his stomach clench, as though a steel vise had been clamped around his insides, and for a few agonizing moments, Jeff couldn't breathe.

Eventually, though, the feeling passed, and the younger Hardy brother fell to his knees, coughing violently. His eyes stung with involuntary tears, and Jeff pressed the heels of his hands against the sockets, blotting out the dim light as he struggled to catch his breath.

For the past seven days, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior had been stumbling through his day-to-day existence in a mental and emotional haze. He felt dazed, off-kilter, as though the gears that ran the universe had inexplicably been knocked out of sync. And with each passing second, he could feel them wobbling back and forth on their axes, waiting for the inevitable instant where they would eventually slip free and tumble down toward chaos.

When Jeff had finally emerged from his hotel bathroom last Monday, pale and weak-kneed, Maria had already gone. They hadn't spoken at all during the week, and their only interaction so far during the overseas tour had consisted of awkward stilted greetings; neither one of them able to meet the other's eyes.

The Charismatic Enigma knew that if he didn't at least _try_ to address what had happened during that disastrous make-out session with Raw's backstage reporter, he would most assuredly lose her altogether...that is, if he hadn't already. However, so far, Jeff had made no attempt to do so, telling himself that the one thing he needed to focus on right now was tonight's rematch against Johnny Nitro.

But deep down, in the shadowy recesses of his subconscious, the younger Hardy brother knew that the _real_ reason he hadn't yet tried to repaired his strained relationship with Maria was because doing so would have meant admitting the truth: that for all her beauty, all her personality, all her _warmth_, Raw's backstage reporter would always be nothing more than a substitute; a stand-in for the one that he _really_ wanted...

More than that, it would have meant accepting that it had been a _lot more_ than just a title that he had lost last week...

Memories danced across his mind, fragments of images and sensation that had slipped through the mental barrier he had constructed around himself:

The hazy gleam of desire in Melina's dark eyes...

The subtle scent of her olive skin...

The almost childlike expression of hope on her face and the way her fingers gripped his as she whispered that she wanted to be with him...

For not the first time, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior found himself wondering if last Sunday night-and everything preceding it-had been little more than a crazy dream; a half-baked fantasy concocted out of his own insane notions.

That he had loved her...and that she, at least for one brief wondrous night, had loved him back...

"I thought I'd find you out here."

Matt's bemused remark cut across the self-pitying loop of Jeff's thoughts, jarring him out of his reverie. The Charismatic Enigma glanced up, his face registering merely faint recognition at the sight of his older brother. "Aren't you supposed to be in Ireland?"

The SmackDown Superstar shrugged. "Yeah, but it was either be here or else wrestle Chavo Guerrero for the nine hundredth time-and, quite frankly, _no one _really wants to see that. Besides," Matt paused, tilting his head back a little as he studied his brother. "I thought you'd appreciate having someone to watch your back tonight."

Jeff didn't answer at first; merely rose slowly to his feet, his joints creaking and popping quietly in protest. He didn't look at his older brother, but rather, stared off at a point just above his shoulder. "You think I'm going to lose it out there?"

"_No_," Matt retorted, his tone slightly exasperated. He moved closer toward his younger sibling, reaching out to grasp Jeff's upper arm. "But I _do _think that you're going to wind up exactly where you were at the end of last week's match, if you don't pull your head out of your ass and stop dwelling on the past." There was a pause as the SmackDown Superstar considered his next words. "Look, bro, whatever happened between you and Melina-"

As soon as the Dominant Diva's name floated out into the air, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior's countenance instantly hardened, closing down in something even stonier and more unreadable than it had been a second ago. He yanked his arm free, pushing past his brother and storming in the direction of the arena entrance. "I don't have to listen to this-" the younger Hardy brother muttered.

"Maybe you do!" Jeff could hear the rapid patter of Matt's sneakers on the pavement as he chased after him; when it came to sheer dogged persistence, no one could match the elder Hardy brother. "Have you glanced in the mirror lately? You look like hell! You don't sleep, you don't eat-and whenever someone tries to talk to you, it's like you're a million miles away. Even now-it's like the lights are on, but no one's home-"

The SmackDown Superstar finally caught up to his younger sibling, grabbing Jeff's arm and whirling the Charismatic Enigma forcibly around to face him. Matt stared hard at his brother, irritation and concern emanating from him in equal measures. "You really don't get it, do you? Right now...you're sleepwalking...and if you don't _wake up_; if you keep letting whatever that chick did get to you...then you're not the only one who's going to to get hurt."

Jeff didn't respond; only stared mutely back at his older sibling, and Matt gradually felt his resolve falter. Even during the worst moments of his life, the times where he had hit rock bottom, Jeff had never looked like _this. _There was something unnerving about the Rainbow-Haired Warrior's eyes; a total lack of _anything_ in their green depths-and it wasn't just the absence of emotion or comprehension, but _life_, period.

It was as though...when the paparazzi princess had ripped out his brother's heart, she had also ripped out some vital part of him; something that he could barely function without. The Jeff Hardy standing in front of him looked almost nothing like the free-spirited daredevil that the fans adored, but rather like a shadow of the real thing; a hollow empty shell that walked and talked.

The younger Hardy brother was talking now, his lips barely moving as he spoke. His voice was soft...but not soft enough to mask the bitterness in his tone: "You know... _you're _one to lecture _me_ about going crazy because of a girl."

With that, he was gone, moving across the loading dock and disappearing behind behind one of the equipment trucks...leaving his stunned older brother behind to mull over the unshakable logic of his noncommittal response.

* * *

Melina stared at her reflection in the vanity mirror, her ring finger gliding over her lower lip as she carefully applied a layer of glittery lip gloss to its full contours. That accomplished, she turned her face to one side, then the other, her dark eyes never wavering from her reflected likeness.

The image greeting her scrutiny was flawless, as per usual: low-cut red corset top, short black skirt, hair pinned back from her face and tumbling down her back in a mass of reddish-brown curls. However, for the first time, the paparazzi princess could see that it was nothing more than a mask-a pristine and exquisitely beautiful one...but a mask all the same.

On the surface, she was Johnny Nitro's girlfriend, the WWE's Dominant Diva and (in the eyes of both rosters) a Grade-A bitch. Inside...well, she wasn't sure _what_ she was anymore.

Maybe, deep down, she was nothing more than plain, ordinary Melina Perez; uncertain, fearful, and shy. Maybe that was who she had been all along...and maybe that was all she _needed _to be.

Because that was all that _Jeff_ had ever needed her to be.

The Dominant Diva ducked her head, biting the inside of her lip to stop the tears from coming. She hadn't realized until now just how seldom the Charismatic Enigma had actually called her by name. With him, it had always been "Princess", a word which was simultaneously a term of endearment and an epithet of scorn. Perhaps _that _was why the few times he _had_ uttered her name resonated with such clarity with her.

The night they had spent together. The overwhelming pleasure tearing through her body, hot and sweet and intoxicating. Jeff's lips pressed against her ear, the breathless whisper of his voice audible over her own ecstatic moans, spitting out the three syllables of her name-_Me-li-na-_with exactly the same cadence that one utters _I love you..._

Arms snaked around her waist, pulling her against a muscular frame, followed by a soft kiss on the side of her neck. Melina stiffened almost immediately, her head shooting up, her dark eyes narrowing imperceptibly.

Nitro pressed his cheek against Melina's, meeting his girlfriend's eyes in the mirror. "Damn, Mel, you are fucking sexy as hell," he remarked, the confidence and swagger oozing from his voice.

Melina didn't respond; she was too busy molding her expression into one of carefully constructed insolent arrogance. Over the past seven days, her feelings toward the current Intercontinental Champion had altered drastically, transforming and intensifying from mere disinterest into downright disgust. Even now, the sensation of Nitro's arms around her was almost too much for her to stand; she actually had to swallow the bile that climbed up her throat, and despite her best efforts, she couldn't prevent the faintest flicker of disdain from registering on her face.

A few months ago, the self-proclaimed A-lister's touch would have sent desire shooting through her body. Now, just the thought of his hands on her made Melina want to throw up.

Luckily for her, Nitro must have assumed that the brief flash of contempt in her countenance was meant for the younger Hardy brother, because his self-assured grin widened even more. "Don't worry, baby," he murmured soothingly. "Once I beat that loser tonight, we'll _never _have to worry about him again. _He'll _drop back down to the bottom of the pile while _we_ call it an early night, head back to our hotel room and..." A brief pause as he gently nibbled her earlobe. "..._celebrate_."

The paparazzi princess remained silent, allowing the corners of her mouth to curl upward in a lazy smirk. The sneer was just as phony as the rest of her expression, but it effectively masked her revulsion and her loathing. Only her eyes betrayed her, glinting with a steely resolve that did not quite match the rest of her countenance.

Perhaps if Nitro had looked, _really looked_, into her eyes, he might have glimpsed the truth then; might even have sensed her intentions. Perhaps he might have realized at that moment that his girlfriend's heart no longer belonged to him...but to the man who had somehow become his nemesis.

But the current Intercontinental Champion merely continued talking, alternating between the beating he was going to inflict on Jeff Hardy and the celebration that was going to follow his inevitable victory. Melina gradually tuned him out, her expression never wavering as she offered a silent retort to Nitro's earlier assertion of triumph:

_That's what YOU think..._

_

* * *

_

Nitro clasped his hands together underneath Jeff's chin, forcing the Charismatic Enigma's head back as he locked in the modified Camel Clutch. Jeff's green irises were glazed and unfocused, the tip of his tongue protruding from his mouth as he gasped for air.

From the far side of the ring, the Dominant Diva watched intently, her expression fixed into one of wicked glee, as though she was enjoying the younger Hardy brother's predicament. However, Melina wasn't sure how long she could maintain her outer facade; her facial muscles were starting to ache from the exertion, and she had already bitten the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood.

Besides, every time one of Nitro's punches or kicks connected with Jeff's lean frame, the paparazzi princess felt herself sway unsteadily on her stiletto heels, as though the blow had somehow collided with her as well.

This match...it was like the worst possible kind of hell, where not even she was completely cognizant of where the lines between fiction and reality began and ended. Walking down to the ring, going through the motions of her entrance with Nitro, the whole time painfully aware of the weight of Jeff's gaze against her skin...and now, standing here, pretending that she didn't care while in reality, she cared so much that she could hardly stand it-

Was this what a conscience felt like; this heavy weight hanging from her heart? Was this what it felt like to regret, to care, to feel, _really feel_ things? If so...how had she ever managed to shove it aside and carry out the reprehensible deeds she had incurred during her tenure with the WWE? Right now, the feelings of love and empathy swelling within her seemed almost too great to be contained, and she wanted nothing more than to storm the ring and drive the toe of her boot squarely up into Nitro's testicles...

Melina clenched her fist, squeezing her fingers until she felt her nails pierce the skin of her palm. As warranted and justified as such an action might be, it wouldn't win Jeff the Intercontinental Championship. In fact, it would be more likely to unleash Nitro's wrath upon her as well.

The last time she had stood up to the self-proclaimed A-lister, he had given her a black eye. And while her boyfriend could claim all he wanted that the incident had been the result of too much alcohol...there was something about his rage that had been terrifyingly sober.

In the ring, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior struggled to his feet, driving his elbow repeatedly into Nitro's sculpted abdomen as he fought to break free of the hold. Melina slammed her palms down on the canvas in what she hoped looked like frustration. She had been unusually mute throughout the match so far, afraid that the tiniest scream of annoyance or triumph would crack her artificial expression like the fragile shell of an egg.

Jeff managed to extricate himself from the self-proclaimed A-lister's submission hold, grabbing hold of Nitro's arm and Irish-whipping him into the corner. _Hard_. The younger Hardy brother launched himself into a cross-body, but the current Intercontinental Champion somehow slithered out of harm's way, and Jeff's jaw connected painfully with the turnbuckle post.

The paparazzi princess flinched, biting back the gasp that sprang to her lips. She paced back and forth, clapping enthusiastically with hands that were now completely numb. Nitro smirked, posing for a second in the center of the ring before hurtling toward Jeff in an attempt to take out the Charismatic Enigma with the very same maneuver.

Before he could make contact, however, the younger Hardy brother somehow managed to counter the move, picking up his arch-rival and dropping him unceremoniously on the top rope...crotch-first.

A startled giggle burst from Melina's lips, and she clapped her hands over her mouth to hide her involuntary grin. Her shoulders shook with repressed laughter and she hoped that the stunned amusement in her eyes was passing for chagrin on-camera. As Nitro slid awkwardly back down to the floor, curling up into the fetal position and clutching himself with both hands, all the Dominant Diva could think was: _Guess he won't be calling that little ECW bitch tonight..._

The counter had taken almost as much out of Jeff as it had out of the Intercontinental Champion; the Rainbow-Haired Warrior had collapsed a few feet away. Just looking at him was enough to quell Melina's mirth, and her expression immediately sobered. She steepled her hands together in front of her mouth, her gaze fastened to the Charismatic Enigma.

Referee Chad Patton had already started his ten-count when both Superstars staggered to their feet; Jeff first, Nitro second. Even from her vantage point at the other side of the ring, Melina could see the younger Hardy brother's green eyes blaze with fiery intensity, and she felt a small hopeful smile touch the edges of her lips. _Come on, Jeff..._ she urged silently.

As though he had somehow heard her tacit encouragement, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior lashed out, taking Nitro down with one clothesline, two, a back elbow, a spinning mule kick. The last offensive maneuver knocked Nitro onto his back, and Jeff quickly dropped down for the cover.

_1...2..._

Nitro's left shoulder shot off the canvas. Jeff's lip curled briefly in disgust, but he didn't break motion, hauling the current Intercontinental Champion to his feet and Irish-whipping him toward the ropes. The self-proclaimed A-lister, too dazed to counter, hit the ring barriers and bounced back-right into a back body drop.

Jeff hit the mat again, hooking his rival's legs in a pinning combination, but Nitro-displaying an unusual amount of flexibility-managed to flip out of it, breaking the count. The Charismatic Enigma sprang up, yanking Nitro to his feet yet again and Irish-whipping him toward the corner.

This time, however, the Intercontinental Champion was able to reverse the momentum, sending Jeff hurtling toward the turnbuckle post. Instead of connecting with it, though, the younger Hardy brother sprang up onto it with the nimble agility of a gazelle, pausing only an instant before launching his body backward into Whisper in the Wind.

Unfortunately, just before he could make contact, the self-proclaimed A-lister dived out of the way, and Jeff landed awkwardly on the canvas, lying motionless in a crumpled pile of legs and arms.

Melina felt as though someone had just slapped her; she actually heard all of the air rush out of her lungs in a single hoarse gasp. Her legs wobbled beneath her, and she grabbed onto the ring apron lest she collapse on the floor in a heap. She couldn't think, she couldn't even _breathe_, and at the edges of her vision, she could glimpse a sparkling blackness beginning to unfold.

Nitro, of course, was oblivious to all of this; he was too busy gloating, deftly flipping his hair back from his face as he soaked up the animosity emanating from the Manchester crowd. Reaching down, he grabbed a handful of the Charismatic Enigma's multi-hued locks, pulling Jeff ungraciously to his feet and Irish-whipping him toward the ropes.

Jeff looked dazed, out of it, but just as he completed the swing, he abruptly dug his heels in and reversed the momentum. Whether he had been biding his time, or whether the reversal was the result of unconscious ring instinct, Melina wasn't sure; all she knew was that, all of a sudden, Nitro was the one hurtling toward her.

And as the Intercontinental Champion hit the ropes, the Dominant Diva didn't even think; she just grabbed her boyfriend's ankle and yanked backward as hard as she could.

The move didn't have _quite_ the desired effect; instead of dropping Nitro on his face, it only knocked him to his knees. The referee, mercifully, had been checking on Jeff and thus hadn't witnessed her outside interference. Melina quickly spun around to face the crowd, preening and smirking as though she'd just interfered on behalf of her man-which, to be truthful, she _had._

A second or two later, she heard Nitro's indignant shout: "Babe! What the fuck did you do that for?"

The paparazzi princess whirled back around, her countenance morphing into one of confused incomprehension. "I'm sorry, baby!" she replied, hoping that her show of innocence didn't look as unbelievably phony as it felt. "I thought you were _him_!"

"Do I _look_ like I'm him?" Nitro retorted angrily. His face was flushed; if there was one thing the self-proclaimed A-lister abhorred more than defeat, it was public humiliation. He leaned even farther over the ropes, glaring down at his girlfriend. "What the _fuck_ were you_looking_-"

His tirade ended in a surprised squawk as Jeff grabbed his head, guillotining the Intercontinental Champion on the top rope and knocking him back down onto the canvas. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior didn't hesitate for even a moment; he climbed the nearest turnbuckle, posing for a second before diving downward and connecting with the Swanton.

For Melina, everything had slowed to a crawl; she felt as though she was witnessing some sort of ever-changing tableau. In the back of her mind, she was vaguely aware that she should be frowning, screaming, throwing a full-scale tantrum-_anything_ except letting this happen.

But instead, the Dominant Diva merely took a step back...because the truth was, she _wanted_ this to happen.

Jeff flipped over onto his back, hooking Nitro's leg for the pin. Patton was beside him in an instant, slamming his head against the gleaming white canvas.

_1...2...3..._

Everything seemed to erupt at once: the ecstatic screams of the crowd, the throbbing beats of the Charismatic Enigma's entrance music, the triumphant crow of Lillian Garcia's voice as she proclaimed Jeff Hardy the _new_ Intercontinental Champion.

In the midst of all the commotion, however, two individuals remained silent: the newly-crowned Champion...and the Diva who had helped him win.

Jeff gingerly rose to his feet, gratefully accepting the blue-and-gold champion belt from Patton and allowing his arm to be raised in victory. His gaze drifted over the crowd, gradually settling on Melina.

As soon as it did, both of them froze. Jeff gently pulled his arm free, taking a tentative step toward her, then another. Melina did the same, ascending the steel steps until she was on the same level as the younger Hardy brother. They were close, so close...and yet, at the same time, she was aware of the emotional distance that still existed between the two of them.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior took another step toward her, his eyes never leaving her face. There was distrust in his expression, but Melina could glimpse conflict simmering beneath the surface, as though a struggle for comprehension was taking place. Jeff stared at her; for just an instant, his countenance softened-

-and then, without warning, Nitro appeared out of nowhere, driving his elbow into the back of Jeff's neck, knocking the younger Hardy brother to his knees. Snarling, the now-former Intercontinental Champion hauled him back to his feet, looping his arm around the Charismatic Enigma's neck and flattening him with a vicious-looking DDT.

"Don't," Melina tried to say, but she couldn't speak; her voice had been snatched from her in that moment of pure unadulterated shock. As she watched, unable to move, unable to do anything more complex than _bear witness_, the self-proclaimed A-lister rolled out of the squared circle, pushing aside the ring curtain and rummaging around underneath the ring.

At first, the paparazzi princess thought he was going for a chair, or perhaps a trash can lid, but then her dark eyes bulged in horror as Nitro yanked a six-foot steel ladder from the dark recesses beneath the ring. In that instant, Melina's stunned paralysis snapped and she stumbled down the stairs, tripping on the last one and falling to her knees. "Johnny, don't-"

Nitro didn't seem to hear her; his handsome features were fixed in an expression of stony hatred. Grabbing the ladder, he slid back into the ring. Rising to his feet, he hoisted the ladder up in both hands. For a long moment, he stood over the writhing figure of his nemesis, regarding him without moving.

Melina pulled herself back up to her feet, grimacing with the effort. She had twisted her leg in the fall-her left knee in particular was throbbing-and all the wind had been knocked out of her. Holding onto the edge of the ring for support, she reached out toward her boyfriend, as though the sheer force of her will could yank him back to her. "Johnny, _please_," she gasped, her voice little more than a barely audible croak. "_Don't-"_

Nitro's face abruptly twisted with fury, and with a guttural roar, he hurled the ladder down as hard as he could onto Jeff's prone frame. As soon as the unyielding metal connected, Melina felt her insides contract, as though someone had punched her in the stomach. The Dominant Diva doubled over, and for a few agonizing seconds, came dangerously close to puking on the floor. Her vision blurred, alternating with pulses of red and black, and all she could hear was the sound of Johnny's voice-

_If I'm not the Champion...and you won't put out...then what good are you to me?..._

_ -_the painful sting of his knuckles crashing against her eye socket-

_You...you're just another pair of tits that talk..._

-the dull THUNK of her head bouncing off the carpeted floor-

_If you can't even do that...then you're worthless to me..._

-and the blood, oozing between her fingers...

Melina didn't even realize that she was running until she was halfway up the ramp, her ankles wobbling back and forth dangerously, the breath tearing in and out of her lungs in frantic gasps. For an instant, she whipped her head back to look behind her, to see if Jeff was all right, but all she could make out was watery blurs of light and color, and so she kept moving.

As the paparazzi princess reached the top of the ramp, reeling in the overwhelming calliope of sound and light and sensation for a second before disappearing into the comforting darkness of gorilla, she cursed herself.

For leaving Jeff at the mercy of a possible psychopath...and for admitting, however indirectly, that she was still afraid of Johnny.

* * *

The younger Hardy brother limped unsteadily down the hallway. His entire body was ablaze with agony; the Intercontinental Championship resting on his shoulder felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds.

After the first ladder shot, Jeff had blacked out; his next clear memory was waking up in the trainer's room to find three concerned referees and the trainer all staring down at him. It was through them that he learned Nitro had climbed the turnbuckle post and slingshotted the ladder onto him before storming out of the ring, through the crowd, and out of the arena. Of Melina's whereabouts...no one had a clue.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior had vague recollections, during the haze of darkness that had encircled his brain, of a female voice screaming _Don't_ and _Please_. But then again, for all he knew, it was nothing more than a dream; a figment of his imagination.

Like how, for a second, he could have sworn that Melina had tripped her boyfriend up on purpose.

Or how, in that instant before Nitro's elbow had slammed into the back of his neck, she had been trying to tell him...that she was sorry.

Jeff shook his head, a bitter smile playing around the corners of his mouth. That ladder must have hit him in the head harder than he had originally thought; why else would he be entertaining such ridiculous notions?

"Congratulations, bro," The Charismatic Enigma turned at the sound of his brother's voice, wincing as Matt's hand smacked his shoulder just a little bit harder than he would have preferred. His green irises narrowed to small slits, blotting out the harsh glow of the fluorescent bulbs, as he continued plodding gingerly down the corridor.

Matt went on. "-after what happened out there, Nitro'll be lucky if he even gets to cash in his rematch clause. With any luck, you'll never have to deal with that douchelord again-" His Southern drawl died away into confused silence as Jeff suddenly burst out laughing, the sound of it jarring and hoarse and echoing with just the slightest hint of insanity.

The new Intercontinental Champion leaning back against the wall, tears streaming down his cheeks as he struggled to rein in his laughter. "You-you don't g-get it, do you?" he whispered, gradually regaining his voice through the occasional chuckle. "_This..._was never...about the title."

With an arm that was visibly trembling, Jeff hoisted the title off his shoulder, holding it up for a second before opening his fist and letting the belt hit the floor with the sharp slap of leather on concrete.

Matt's jaw dropped and he jumped back a step; the Rainbow-Haired Warrior didn't seem to notice. His voice fell to a whisper. "It was about..._her_." He looked up, meeting his brother's eyes, and behind the deadness, Matt thought he could glimpse the bright gleam of acute agony. Jeff continued. "She's trapped, Matt. She's trapped-but she has no idea how to break free _because the cage is all she knows_. And I want to save her-" The younger Hardy brother hesitated, his voice cracking. "I thought I _could_ save her-but now...I'm not even sure that she _wants _to be saved. But I-"

Jeff stopped, but Matt could see the words written in his eyes, as clearly as if he'd uttered them aloud: _I love her...even after everything that's happened...I love her so much that it hurts..._

The Charismatic Enigma's head sagged to the side, his emerald irises staring off at an unseen point in space, his voice soft and faraway. "Last week, everything made sense. But then, all of a sudden, everything changed...and now, nothing makes sense anymore."

Matt waited for more, but the younger Hardy brother didn't add anything further; only scooped up his championship belt, and heaving it back onto his shoulder with a low sigh, continued down the corridor, disappearing out of sight around a corner.

The elder Hardy brother wasn't sure how long he remained there, staring in the direction of his sibling's departure, mulling over his words, before he sensed a presence at his elbow...followed by a hesitant voice: "I couldn't stop him,"

Matt turned, starting a little at the sight of the Dominant Diva. Melina had been crying, her eye makeup snaking down her cheeks in tiny black rivers, and she wore a black hoodie over her low-cut top and short skirt. The sweatshirt was way too big for her-its oversized proportions made the paparazzi princess seem even tinier than she already was-but from the way Melina was wrapping it around her slender frame, it was clear that she had no intentions of parting with it.

The SmackDown Superstar eventually located his voice. "Stop who?"

"Johnny," the Dominant Diva whispered. At the mention of the self-proclaimed A-lister, she shivered, hugging the hoodie even tighter around herself. Her voice was dull, lifeless, as though her emotions had bled out along with her tears. "I didn't want him to hurt Jeff...but I was afraid...that if I tried to stop him...he'd hit me again...and when he picked up the ladder...I-I ran." She lifted her lids, meeting the elder Hardy brother's gaze with a sort of detached steadiness. "I never...wanted this to _happen_-" Melina's voice broke on the last word, and fresh tears began to pool in her eyes.

"I know," Matt heard the words emerge from his mouth as though from a great distance. He no longer cared about what the paparazzi princess had done to him in the past-looking into her eyes, all he saw was his brother's pain, his brother's anguish, reflected back at him.

And just like with Jeff...all he wanted to do was to make it go away.

The elder Hardy brother reached out, encircling Melina's shoulders with his arm. The Dominant Diva stiffened a little at the contact, but didn't pull away. "Come with me," he whispered, and with his arm still wrapped around her shoulders, he led her off in the direction he had seen his brother depart.

Neither one of them noticed the tall figure sidling out of the shadows behind them. Randy Orton watched Matt and Melina with detached interest, cocking his head to the side as the pair disappeared around a corner.

The Legend Killer smiled. _So...Nitro's girl and Jeff Hardy..._ he mused to himself. _Interesting... _Randy didn't care much for the self-proclaimed A-lister personally, but he had to admit that the guy had potential. Lose the fur coat and the shades, and he probably could be one of the best.

And the whole time, that smoking hot girlfriend of his was banging the burned-out, washed-up black sheep member of the Hardy clan behind his back...

_Interesting..._

Normally, the third-generation Superstar made a point of staying out of other people's business. Between his and Edge's shot at the Tag Team titles tonight, and Rated RKO's ongoing feud with D-Generation-X, the Legend Killer had more than enough to keep him occupied.

But _this_..._this_ had the potential to be..._interesting_.

More than that...it could be_..._

_Useful._


	23. Chapter 23: All The Way To You

**A/N: NEW CHAPTER! I know what you're thinking; you're probably thinking that you're hallucinating since I usually never have another chapter out this fast. The truth is, I was feeling the itch to write this one ever since I finished the last one, and a few nights ago, I was listening to my IPod and the first two songs that came up on Shuffle were from my Let Me Fall playlist (Yeah, that's how hardcore I am about this story; I actually created a playlist for it on my IPod, lol) Well, that pretty much cinched it, so I spent last night and tonight banging it out. It kind of took a bit out of me getting the emotions down on paper, but hopefully it was a success and you all will enjoy it. Because you're all awesome. PEACE!**

**A/A/N: The song lyrics are from "All The Way to You" by Armchair Cynics; all the rights, etc. belong to them.**

**Thank you to **cherrycokerocks, LetNys, Esha Napoleon, rebelwilla, DarkAngelMel2, PrettyReckless09, Extremist, nightmarelover, **and** BigRedMachineUK **for all the fantastic reviews on the last chapter! You know that I love you, but I will say it anyway: LOVE YAS!**

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Chapter 23: All The Way To You

_**Wait**_

_**I've been trying to make sense**_

_**But all my thoughts get in the way**_

_**Of everything I've been wanting to say**_

_**Tell me, what's a boy to do**_

_**When you've got me so confused**_

_**Like a drunk in the dark**_

_**I stumble all the way to you...**_

Melina leaned against the wall outside Jeff's hotel room, closing her eyes and trailing her fingertips across the textured surface of the wallpaper. She hadn't spoken a word since leaving the News Arena; Matt had been equally taciturn during the cab ride over here, and was currently down at the front desk trying to wrangle a spare room key away from the hotel clerk. Truthfully, though, the Dominant Diva was grateful for the lack of conversation. There was no word that could adequately describe how she was feeling right now; too many conflicting emotions were simultaneously fighting for dominance within her skull. She wasn't sure if she was elated, terrified, miserable...or even..._hopeful_.

Melina still couldn't quite believe that the elder Hardy brother was helping her carry out this insane mission. True, he _had_ agreed to help her last week-but then again, it had been under the proviso that she first find some way to make her boyfriend lose his title match. And even then...the look on Matt's face...the tone of his voice...he had made it seem as though any aid he _did_ provide would be at an absolute minimum and doled out with the utmost reluctance.

_Let's get one thing straight...I'm not doing this for YOU..._

But tonight, ever since she had approached him in the hallway, his whole demeanor, the way he was treating her, had changed-it now seemed almost..._sympathetic_.

It was as though the elder Hardy brother had somehow grasped what the paparazzi princess still wasn't entirely sure of herself...that both she _and_ Jeff were miserable without each other.

_My brother's in pain...and I hate seeing him in pain...and I just can't shake this idea that you're the only one who can make it go away..._

Melina drew in a deep shaky breath. Right now, she wasn't certain of her ability to make _anything_ go away; her heart was racing along at a million beats a second, and her chest felt tight, almost uncomfortably so, as though her ribcage had contracted several sizes in the last few minutes.

_This is crazy... _The Dominant Diva's eyes drifted open a crack, blinking against the glow of the soft overhead lights. She recognized the disapproving inner voice almost immediately; it was all that remained of the selfish, spoiled, arrogant Diva who always had to be in control. It had been pulverized to almost nothing in the past seven days; reduced to little more than a voice inside her head. _You saw the look on Jeff's face, the things he said. Even if he doesn't throw you out as soon as he sees you, there's no guarantee that he'll listen to anything you have to say..._

_ Face facts, Melina, there's nothing for you here. You'd be better off going back-_

_ Back to what_?... the paparazzi princess retorted silently. _Back to a clueless philandering boyfriend who doesn't care? And then what? EIther wait for him to get tired of me or else shrivel up and die on the inside?..._

_ Maybe you're right...maybe there IS nothing for me here...but I have to try. I have to try...or else, what's the point?_

_ Isn't it better to feel something for a few moments than to spend the rest of your life feeling nothing at all?..._

Despite her apprehension, the Dominant Diva almost had to appreciate the irony of the situation; true to form, she was once again running away...but this time, she was at least running in the right direction.

"Hey," The soft lilt of Matt's Southern accent-so much like Jeff's-floated across her thoughts, stirring her back to the present. Melina quickly straightened up, opening her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. The elder Hardy brother had an electronic key card in one hand, which was extended in her direction.

The paparazzi princess stared at it for several long seconds, then gradually swung her gaze back up to Matt's face. "That was...fast," she remarked, cursing herself for how stupid and slow she sounded.

The SmackDown Superstar shrugged. "Yeah, well, it helps when the guy at the front desk also happens to be a Team Extreme fan." He pushed the card toward her again, a little bit more forcibly this time.

The Dominant Diva opened her mouth to add something else, then realized there was really nothing more to be said. Instead, she accepted the key card, her fingers curling protectively around the small plastic rectangle. "Thanks..." she whispered. "I...thanks..."

Matt said nothing; merely dipped his head in a subtle nod. Melina ducked her chin, turning away from him and focusing on the door. Just as she was about to slip the card into the slot, however, the elder Hardy brother spoke up once again: "Just so you know-"

Melina turned slightly, meeting Matt's gaze almost out of the corner of her eye. The SmackDown Superstar's expression hadn't changed, but all the same, there was something..._harder..._about it now, as though for a moment, all the warmth had been drained out of him. The elder Hardy brother's tone was flat; rumbling with just the faintest hint of a threat: "If you break his heart again...I'll make your life a living hell."

For a second, the paparazzi princess said nothing. Then, gradually, the corners of her mouth turned upward in a weak smile. "Fair enough..." she murmured, and with that, she shoved the key card into its designated slot, turning the knob and pushing open the door.

The room was empty, as she'd expected it to be-Matt had informed her that Jeff would most likely wait out the rest of the show in either the trainer's room or some deserted corner of the arena before heading back to the hotel to crash. However, the Dominant Diva could still sense the presence of the room's current inhabitant. The unmade bed, the open suitcase, the clothes strewn across the floor-all of it sent a powerful wave of poignant memories crashing over her; so acute that for several long moments, she was helpless to do anything but be swept away in their wake...

_When I look at you...I can barely breathe...and when you touch me...I feel like I wanna die..._

_ If either of us had any sense...we'd walk away right now...because THIS... whatever it is...will burn us alive if we're not careful..._

_ I don't want this to go away...any more than I want to stop flying..._

Eventually, Melina forced herself to stir; forced herself to put one foot in front of the other as she moved further into the room. The recollections didn't subside, however; merely advanced closer to their inevitable conclusion. The paparazzi princess halted in front of the window, and for an instant, a _heartbeat_, she thought that she could feel Jeff's arms wrapped around her waist; could hear her soft query and the Charismatic Enigma's tender response...

_Jeff...what's it feel like to fly?..._

_It's like nothing else in the world, princess..._

The Dominant Diva sank down into a padded armchair in the corner next to the window, unzipping her stiletto boots and kicking them under the seat. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she hugged the oversized hoodie-_Jeff's _hoodie-tighter around herself.

Melina rested her head against the back of the chair, staring at the faint radiance emanating from the parking lot outside. Against her will, she felt her eyes begin to drift closed-and a few seconds later, the exhausted Diva had dozed off into a tentative sleep.

* * *

The sound of the lock tumbler sliding out of its slot jolted the paparazzi princess from her uneasy slumber. Melina sat bolt upright, her fingers unconsciously playing over her clothes, her hair. Waves of apprehension were radiating outward from her stomach, causing her whole body to shake.

Part of her-her _old _self-was panicking, urging her to bolt; to run away and avoid this confrontation altogether. But the Dominant Diva forced herself to remain precisely where she was. It was too late to escape; whatever happened after this would _happen._

Besides...it had been too late for her long before she had set foot in this room.

A widening rectangle of light materialized in the gloom as the door swung open, followed by the unmistakable silhouette of the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. Jeff was moving gingerly, obviously still feeling the effects of his battle with Nitro and the beatdown that had followed.

Melina tensed, waiting for him to say something, but the younger Hardy brother merely closed the door, blotting out the hallway's illumination, humming softly to himself. The paparazzi princess heard a soft SNAP, and the lights sprang on, casting away the shadows, leaving her feeling vulnerable and exposed-but also affording a better look at the Charismatic Enigma.

Jeff had his back to her, earbuds plugged into his ears. His newly-won Intercontinental Championship was slung over one shoulder, and he had a large bag of ice pressed to the side of his face. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior turned, still humming along to whatever tune was blasting out of his Ipod...and then abruptly froze as he saw the Dominant Diva sitting in the corner.

Melina felt her head leap into her throat, as though propelled upward by a pump. She couldn't move; her hands were clamped to the chair's arms, her fingernails digging into the fabric.

The bag slipped from Jeff's grasp, hitting the carpeted floor and spilling jagged ice cubes everywhere. The title belt followed suit, landing with a loud TWACK. Slowly, as though he wasn't even aware that he was doing so, the younger Hardy brother reached up, daintily removing his earbuds and shoving them into his pocket. His green irises never wavered from hers, and Melina could feel their intensity from the other side of the room.

For a minute or two, neither one of them spoke. Finally, Jeff broke the silence, forcing the words out, his expression indecipherable. "How...how'd you get in here?"

The paparazzi princess couldn't speak at first; her throat had gone dry and her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth. Eventually, though, after what seemed like an eternity, she was able to compose herself enough to form coherent syllables: "Your brother helped me."

Astonishment flashed across the Charismatic Enigma's face, genuine and unchecked, and a few seconds elapsed before he was able to push it aside enough to sputter: "_Matt_? He-he _what_? Why-why the _hell_ would he help _you_?"

The Dominant Diva shook her head. "I don't know," she admitted honestly.

Jeff shook his head, averting his gaze. The revelation about his brother had shaken him, and it was clear that he was striving to retrieve his initial emotionless control. "You know what?" the Rainbow-Haired Warrior finally retorted. "It doesn't even matter." He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the door. "_Get out_."

A second crawled by. Then another. Gradually, Melina shook her head, her voice just above a whisper. "_No._"

Jeff's eyebrows shot upward in surprise. "No?" he repeated incredulously, his face flushing as anger crept into his tone. "Look, _princess_-I'm tired, I'm _still_ jet-lagged, my whole body hurts because your _boyfriend_ hit me in the _face_ with a fucking _ladder_-the _last_ thing I want to see right now is _you_, in _my _room, wearing _my_ sweatshirt!"

The younger Hardy brother took a step toward her, ice cubs crunching beneath his feet. His voice was low, laced with ire...and pain. "_Get...the hell...out_."

"I said _no_!" The paparazzi princess sprang to her feet, her voice rising up to a shriek on the last word. She moved forward as well, matching Jeff's wounded glare with one of her own. "I heard you out last week; I _let_ you call me a bitch and a liar. But now it's _my _turn to talk and _your_ turn to listen." Another step forward. "If you want me out, _Jeff Hardy_, then you're going to have to _throw_ me out because _I'm not leaving_."

Another long stretch of silence crept by. Eventually, the Charismatic Enigma shrugged. "All right, princess, you win. _As always_..._you win_." There was mocking in his tone, but his voice was thick, as though he was using scorn to mask how much he was hurting on the inside. He walked over to the room's double bed-still leaving a considerable distance between the two of them-and sat down on its edge, folding his legs up Indian-style. His expression had closed up into a kind of resentful acceptance. "_I'm listening_."

The Dominant Diva was temporarily at a loss for words-even after all the times she had pictured this moment, she had never once envisioned what she would actually _say_. But then, all of a sudden, she felt something inside her crumble, as though some inner reservoir had given way, and the words poured from her lips in a rapid stream of syllables: "You were right...about me: I _am _a liar."

Melina pushed back her reddish-brown curls with both hands, tearing out some hairpins in the process, but she didn't care. "I've lied to everyone-the fans, the roster, _Johnny_, _myself_-_everyone..._except for you." She hesitated. "I never lied to you."

At this, the younger Hardy brother rolled his eyes, but the paparazzi princess pressed on. "You were always the one person that I could _never_ lie to-because you always saw through it. No matter how many walls I put up, you still knew when I was deluding myself, when I was lying to myself."

The Dominant Diva took a deep breath. "When you looked at me...you saw _me_...when even I'd forgotten who that person was. _Everything_ in my life is _fake_...but with _you_, it was always _real_."

Melina abruptly advanced forward, dropping down to her knees in front of Jeff, biting back a wince of pain as the ice cubes dug into her bare skin. She peered imploringly up into the Rainbow-Haired Warrior's face. "So...why can't you see it now? Why can't you believe that I'm telling you the truth? You saw it out there in the ring-I could tell by the look on your face. Even though you didn't want to believe it...deep down, you _knew _that I helped you win; that I tripped Johnny up on purpose." Her lips trembled as her normally strident voice fell to a whisper. "Why can't you _believe_ me?"

"What's the point?" Jeff's tone was dull, and as equally broken as hers. His emerald eyes were fixed on an unseen patch of floor, unable to meet her gaze. "What's the point in trying...when, in the end, all you're going to do is go right back to _him_?"

The paparazzi princess swallowed hard, slowly shaking her head. "Not this time..."

Now it was the Charismatic Enigma's turn to shake his head in the negative. "Bullshit," he spat, the epithet emerging almost as a growl. "You're too much of a coward-"

"It's the _truth_!" the Dominant Diva insisted.

"And why should I believe you?" Jeff retorted.

"_Because I love you_!" As the words fell from her lips, Melina saw the younger Hardy brother visibly flinch, as though he'd been struck by a bullet. All the color drained from his face, making his green irises seem even more brilliant, and his features went slack and soft with shock. For an instant, something flashed across his expression-a look of longing, _yearning_-but in the next, it hardened.

However, the paparazzi princess could tell by the way his entire body seemed to be quivering that it wasn't natural. It wasn't that Jeff _didn't_ care; quite the contrary, in fact. No...instead, he was trying to force himself with every ounce of strength, will, and resolve he still possessed to _convince_ himself that he didn't care, that he _didn't_ love her.

And he was losing the battle.

Melina inched closer, reaching up to put her hand on Jeff's knee. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior instantly stiffened at her touch, but fortunately didn't pull away. "I love you...so much..." the Dominant Diva whispered. "And you're _right_; I _am _a coward. Right now, I'm _so scared_-of Johnny, of what he did...to me...to you...of what he'd do if he ever found out about us. But the truth is that I'm even _more_ scared of what'll happen to me if I go back to him and pretend like it never existed. Like..._we_...never existed."

She peered up at the younger Hardy brother, her expression hardening for a second. "If I'm a coward, then so are you-because _you're_ the one who's trying to go back to the way things used to be. You think...that you can just _forget..._about _us_, about _that night_...about how _right_ it felt. But what you don't realize is that you _can't_!"

One by one, tears rolled down the paparazzi princess's face, her voice cracking. "No matter how hard you try, you can't..._function_...without me-any more than I can function without you. We're not supposed to have anything in common...but we _do. _We don't fit in anywhere, we don't _belong_ anywhere...but when we're together, for some reason, everything makes _sense_."

Melina impulsively gripped Jeff's hand. The Charismatic Enigma looked down at it, then back up at her, but otherwise did not move. "You once asked me if I wanted this," the Dominant Diva murmured. "And I _do. _I want it more than _anything_. But like you said...I can't do it alone. I can't do it...unless you want it, too."

A minute ticked by slowly-but the Rainbow-Haired Warrior said nothing. Melina pressed her lips together, trying to prevent herself from dissolving into helpless tears. "Why can't you _say_ it?" she whispered. "I can see it in your face, Jeff-despite what you _might_ think, you're no good at hiding your feelings. You _want_ this. You want it just as much as I do-so why can't you _say_ it?"

"Because they're just words, princess," Jeff finally spoke up. His voice sounded strained, cracking under the weight of so many pent up emotions. "They don't mean anything. _Words_ don't mean anything."

The paparazzi princess slowly nodded. "You're right," she admitted. "But sometimes-they mean _everything._" She clasped Jeff's hand tightly, her dark eyes boring intently into his emerald ones. "I fucking _love you_. I want to _be_ with you...I don't know what else I have to say to make you understand." She stopped, waiting for a response.

Jeff stared down at her. His expression was a shifting hodgepodge of doubt and misery and longing so acute that it made her heart ache. His mouth was moving slightly, almost forming words-but he still said nothing.

The Dominant Diva's face fell. After a long moment, she bowed her head, tears dripping from her lashes and plopping onto the already-damp floor. "Or maybe...I should just stop wasting my breath," she eventually remarked, her voice flat and almost completely devoid of emotion.

Slowly, Melina rose to her feet, unable to meet the younger Hardy brother's gaze. "Sorry I bothered you." She turned to go, then stopped. "Wait...you probably want this back." Shrugging off the oversized hoodie, she tossed it onto the bed beside the Charismatic Enigma before turning her back on him and moving toward the door.

The paparazzi princess's thoughts were dim and muddled; the only thing she was completely cognizant of was that she was going to burst into uncontrollable tears as soon as she stepped out into the hallway. Tentatively, she reached for the door handle, her fingertips grazing the cool metal-

"Melina...wait..."

The Dominant Diva froze, drawing in a sharp hopeful breath as Jeff's quiet directive floated through the air. Behind her, she heard the Rainbow-Haired Warrior shift a little on the bed before he spoke: "Please...princess...don't go."

Melina closed her eyes, air escaping from her lungs in one long shaky exhale. "Give me a reason to stay, then."

She never heard Jeff move; only the crunch of ice beneath his shoes as he stood. Then the next thing she knew, he was grabbing her arm, whirling her around, pushing her up against the door as his mouth descended on hers in a passionate kiss. Melina returned the kiss, reaching up to grip the back of his neck. She hiked her leg up against his waist, and Jeff slid his hand along the length of her thigh, gripping her ass as he pulled her even tighter against him.

They abruptly pulled apart, both gasping slightly for breath. Melina couldn't talk; her head was spinning and she felt like she could barely stand. Gazing at the younger Hardy brother, she sensed that he had been similarly affected by that intense kiss. Jeff eventually spoke, forcing the words out with profound effort. "How...how's this for a reason?"

The paparazzi princess smiled, reaching up to brush a few strands of multi-colored hair back from Jeff's face. She cupped his cheek in her hand and the Rainbow-Haired Warrior groaned softly, lacing his fingers through hers and pressing his lips to her palm.

The sensation of his lips on her skin made Melina feel as though her insides had turned to liquid, and she quickly gasped out her answer before words failed her entirely: "It'll do."

The corners of Jeff's mouth twitched upward in a smile. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against her ear, murmuring something before sealing her mouth in another fierce kiss. And as they stumbled toward the bed, peeling away pieces of clothing, their initial kisses already giving way to more intimate caresses, the Dominant Diva could still feel his words resonating with her, like a current of electricity dancing across her skin.

_I love you, too...Melina..._


	24. Chapter 24: Tell Me Something

**A/N: Okay, something's clearly up, because this is another NEW CHAPTER! The majority of this chapter was stuff I cut from the previous one; I added several things, tightened it up, and here we are. It is a bit short, but that can't be helped. I might be taking a break from the FF for a bit; I have my thesis due in a few weeks, and I really need to get cracking on that. But in the meanwhile, enjoy this NEW CHAPTER. PEACE!**

**A/A/N: I meant to post this 2 days ago, but this Error Type 2 in the My Stories tab has been my nemesis. Thanks to Google and some lovely people in a FF forum, though, I think I've found the way around it, so if you're reading this-SUCCESS!**

**Thank you to **Kyahbell, FANOFJOLINASPUFFY, DarkAngelMel2, Extremist, BigRedMachineUK, Deppfan, rebelwilla, Esha Napoleon, PrettyReckless09, LetNys, feartheSPEAR, skg16, nightmarelover, **and **cherrycokerocks **for reviewing the last chapter! You ROCK and I LOVE YOU ALL!**

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Chapter 24: Tell Me Something

"Stupid _bitch_!"

Nitro paced back and forth across the length of the dressing room he shared with Melina, running his fingers furiously through his blond-streaked hair, his handsome features dark with unbridled rage. As he passed the mirror, the former Intercontinental Champion shot out his arm, sweeping off the contents of the makeup counter with one swift brutal motion.

There was a musical tinkle of broken glass as a vial of perfume hit the floor and shattered, but the self-proclaimed A-lister took no notice. Instead, he aimed a well-placed kick at a nearby folding chair, sending the metal apparatus bouncing off the wall and skittering across the room.

Nitro halted in front of the mirror, slumping against the counter's edge, covering his face with both hands, the sickly floral aroma of perfume wafting up around him as he struggled to rein in his fury. How had this happened? How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?

The self-proclaimed A-lister had known about the rematch when he'd arrived at the arena that afternoon, but hadn't deemed it with too much importance. After all, as the one holding the title, he was also the one with the advantage. He didn't even need to win the match to retain the belt-and of course, if things actually got _tough_, there was always his smoking hot ace in the hole at ringside, just as determined as he to make sure that he walked out the same way he walked in: as _champion_.

It was supposed to be no big deal; just eight or ten minutes of halfway decent wrestling ending in an easy victory, followed up by several hours of extended... _celebrating..._with Melina back at their hotel. That was what was _supposed _to happen...so how had he ended up here, with no title, an AWOL girlfriend; nothing except the ceaseless hum of his thoughts and the scorching heat of his anger?

He should have _won_...but instead, he had found himself lying flat on his back, blinking stupidly up at the ring of lights above him, while that loser's annoying entrance theme pounded in his skull with the agonizing intensity of a migraine.

And it didn't even matter that he had practically shattered Hardy's skull with a steel ladder following the match's conclusion...because in the back of his mind, he couldn't deny the truth; that the one person who was _truly_ responsible for his defeat was the woman he'd always trusted implicitly, the woman who had always been in his corner.

The woman who was supposed to _love_ him.

A low frustrated groan emanated from the former Intercontinental Champion's throat, and he slammed his fist down on the countertop. "_Stupid_!" the Raw Superstar snarled. "How could she be so _stupid_? How could she _possibly_ mistake _me _for that-"

_Maybe it wasn't an accident..._a cold little voice whispered from the back of his mind. _Maybe...it was on purpose..._

Nitro shook his head, negating the suggestion even as he was aware that he was only arguing with himself. "No...no, that's _insane_." The self-proclaimed A-lister licked his lips, which had inexplicably gone dry. "Why...why would _Mel_ want me to _lose_?"

"Maybe the question you need to be asking yourself is...why would she want Jeff Hardy to win?"

Nitro spun around at the sound of the voice, his eyes instantly narrowing as he appraised the pair of Superstars who had somehow magically materialized at the far side of his dressing room. The two members of Rated RKO were standing on either side of the door, arms crossed over their chests in similar fashion, their newly-won Tag Team Championships slung over their shoulders. Edge was clearly enjoying himself, a smirk playing at the edges of his mouth. Randy's expression, however, was unreadable, his blue eyes as bright and hard as pieces of polished stone.

In spite of himself, the former Intercontinental Champion felt his internal temperature drop a few degrees. The Legend Killer had always unnerved him; there was something..._robotic_ about his demeanor, as though emotions were something he had learned rather than felt. No matter what expression his features displayed, it always seemed like a mask; a mechanism designed to hide the soulless void lurking beneath.

The Rated R Superstar broke the silence, bringing his hands together in a one-man show of applause. The sound of it was harsh, almost sarcastic. "Nice match out there tonight," the former WWE Champion remarked. "Champion for one whole week...that's gotta be some kind of new record." Reaching up, he lovingly patted the gleaming surface of his championship belt. "Next time you want to avoid choking in a title match, just watch me or Randy in action. _We'll _show you how it's done."

Nitro tilted his chin up a little, his gaze traveling to the red-and-gold title belt resting on Edge's shoulder, the nameplate of which still read: "RIC FLAIR". The former Intercontinental Champion swung his gaze back to the Ultimate Opportunist. "Big deal," he snapped scornfully. "All you did tonight was beat one old man."

For a moment, something flashed in Edge's eyes-something which suggested he might be less than thrilled by the younger Superstar's lack of respect. But instead of losing his cool, the former WWE Champion merely glanced at his tag team partner. "Randy, you want to step in anytime?"

The Legend Killer shrugged, straightening up and taking a step forward. "What my partner is less than tactfully trying to say is: as humiliating as it must have been to get your ass handed to you by _Jeff Hardy_, you shouldn't worry about it because we've got an offer for you."

Nitro remained silent for a moment or two as he mentally digested this, his eyes darting suspiciously from one Superstar to the other. "Okay..." he replied slowly after several long seconds had gone by. "What?"

Randy cocked his head slightly to the side, his eyes traveling off to an unseen point in space as he talked. "You know that Survivor Series is coming up in a few weeks? With the big five-on-five traditional match? Team D-X versus Team Rated RKO?" Nitro said nothing; only nodded impatiently for the third generation Superstar to continue. Randy went on, his focus drifting downward as he met the self-proclaimed A-lister's eyes. "Our offer is...we want you on our team."

Surprise flashed across Nitro's handsome face. "Me? On the Rated RKO side?" For just an instant, his countenance opened up, but in the next, it closed back down again, hostility and distrust blotting out the shock. "Wait a minute...why should I?" The self-proclaimed A-lister jabbed his index finger accusingly at the Tag Team Champions. "The _last_ time I teamed with you guys, you did _shit_ for me! You let John Cena pound my ass into the canvas, and then lock a submission hold on me! Why the _fuck_ should I do anything for you?"

The two members of Rated RKO exchanged a look. This time, it was Edge's turn to shrug nonchalantly. "Man's got a point, Randy," he admitted mildly.

The Legend Killer locked eyes with Nitro once more, and the former Intercontinental Champion felt an icy chill slither over his skin, as though he was facing a wintery gale head-on. Randy smiled, a cold reptilian grin, and Nitro almost expected a forked tongue to come darting out between his lips.

"Why should you?" the third-generation Superstar echoed, his deep voice as unsettling as the inhuman hiss of a snake. "I don't know; _maybe _because there's a rumor going around that D-X's going to have both Hardy brothers on their team. _Maybe _because we need someone who can neutralize that flying freak Jeff Hardy. Or _maybe because..._you need to prove something to yourself."

Randy paused, moving closer to the self-proclaimed A-lister. He turned his head to the side, peering out of the corner of his eye, his voice dropping to a malicious murmur: "It's starting to get to you, isn't it? In the beginning, yeah, he seemed like just a joke; a loser trying to get one last glimpse of glory. But now...he's starting to get to you. The way he keeps bouncing back-the way he _won't...fucking...stay...down_. And now... he's taken everything away from you. Your spotlight, your title..." The Legend Killer stopped for a moment, as though savoring his next words. "...and who knows _what_ else."

The Tag Team Champion leaned closer, his tone lowering even more to a sibilant whisper: "Or maybe...you don't want to be part of this match because deep down...you know that you can't beat Jeff Hardy. No matter how hard you try, you just can't _fucking beat him_-"

Nitro's arms shot out, catching Randy in the chest and knocking him back a step or two. The Legend Killer's face registered faint astonishment, but nothing else. The self-proclaimed A-lister pointed at himself. "_I _can't beat _him_?" he repeated incredulously. "Did you even _see _what happened after the match tonight-I fucking _destroyed _Jeff Hardy! And next Monday, I'll do it again!"

The former Intercontinental Champion moved forward, gesturing as he talked. "Next week, it's _my _rematch-and it's gonna be a fucking _ladder match_! I'm gonna beat that loser with his own weapon of choice, and once I've reduced his face to a bloody pulp, I'm gonna set the ladder up right over him, just so the last thing he sees is _me_, reclaiming _my _title!" Nitro paused, sucking in a breath. "Come Survivor Series, you won't even _need_ me, because Jeff Hardy...won't be an issue anymore."

Silence fell over the room. Edge and Randy glanced at each other, exchanging raised eyebrows and shrugged shoulders. Eventually, the pair looked back at the still-fuming self-proclaimed A-lister. "So..." Edge ventured, his voice nonchalant. "Are you in...or are you out?"

Nitro sucked in another furious breath, his upper lip briefly pulling back from his teeth. "_I'm in_." the former Intercontinental Champion whispered, his voice dripping with hatred and barely contained rage.

For a moment, tension still reigned...and then abruptly dissipated as the two members of Rated RKO nodded approvingly. "Good choice," Randy remarked calmly.

At this tacit show of acceptance, Nitro let out his breath slowly, his clenched muscles gradually relaxing. Unfortunately, the ease turned out to be temporary, as the Legend Killer added: "...provided your girlfriend doesn't fuck up _this_ match, too."

Nitro's eyes bulged in their sockets, his whole face flushing with fresh ire. "_You leave Mel out of this,_" the self-proclaimed A-lister growled. "It was an _accident_."

The Tag Team Champions exchanged another wordless look. "An _accident_?" Randy eventually replied after several moments of awkward silence. "It looked pretty deliberate to me."

With that, Rated RKO exited as surreptitiously as they had entered, leaving behind a speechless Nitro...but just as he pulled the door shut behind him, Randy though he saw a glimmer of almost-comprehension flicker across the self-proclaimed A-lister's face.

The Legend Killer smiled.

* * *

"Jeff?"

The Charismatic Enigma opened his eyes as Melina's voice floated up out of the darkness. The two of them were lying together in the dark, physically spent from their lovemaking, their arms entwined around each other. To Jeff, the past few hours seemed like a dream, one almost too vivid to be reality, and while he could feel everything-could feel Melina's cheek pressed against his chest, could feel the warm pants of her breath as she spoke-he still couldn't quite shake the feeling that any second now, he would wake up, and all of this would melt away into nothing.

It didn't, however, and the younger Hardy brother leaned down, placing a kiss on the top of Melina's head. "What is it, princess?" he murmured sleepily into her hair.

The Dominant Diva hesitated, trailing her fingers over his chest as she pondered her next words. "He wasn't always like this."

"Who?" the Rainbow-Haired Warrior replied, his mind already tumbling back toward sleep.

Another long moment of hesitation, then: "_Johnny_."

At the mention of the former Intercontinental Champion, Jeff's eyes flew open, slumber temporarily driven from his thoughts. The paparazzi princess continued, the words spilling from her as though she was trying to force them out all at once: "In the beginning, he was so _different_...he was sweet and caring, and he made me laugh. But then...somewhere along the line...he changed. 'Johnny Nitro' stopped being a character, and started being who he was on the inside."

Melina paused, pressing her face against Jeff's chest. "He doesn't even see _me_ anymore. I'm just a..._thing_...to him; just a hot girl with big boobs who helps him win matches and who's as mean as he is-I'm not a _person_ anymore; just an _object_."

The Dominant Diva rolled over onto her back, pillowing her head on Jeff's arm, reaching up to lace her fingers through his. "It's like...I stopped running a long time ago, but he kept going, and now...every time we go out to the ring, I have to pretend that I'm still running, just so he won't see how far behind I am." She turned her head, gazing over at the Charismatic Enigma in the darkness. "Does that make any sense?"

Jeff didn't answer at first; merely caressed her fingers, running his thumb across her palm. "Why are you telling me this?" he asked slowly."

At this, Melina rolled over onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows. Jeff could just make her out in the faint light, her reddish-brown tresses tumbling down over her bare shoulders. "Because I want you to know that I _did_ love him once," the paparazzi princess whispered. "Once upon a time...it _was_ real."

The younger Hardy brother reached up, cupping her cheek in his hand. "And now?"

Melina sighed softly, leaning into his touch. "Now...I hate him." She bit her lower lip pensively. "I hate him so much. And I'm afraid...I'm so afraid-"

"Don't be," Jeff wrapped his arms around the Dominant Diva, holding her against him, sheltering her in his embrace. His mouth hovered above hers, his lips grazing her own. "Don't _ever _be afraid of him."

With that, he kissed her; a slow lingering kiss that sent heat rushing through both of them. "I'll protect you," the Rainbow-Haired Warrior whispered.

"No matter what..."

* * *

"You know," the Rated R Superstar remarked. "I'm surprised you didn't just tell him the truth back there. I would have _loved_ to see the expression on his face when he found out his girlfriend is bumping uglies with Jeff Hardy-"

Randy shrugged, his perfectly-featured face registering only mild amusement. "Nitro might have some skill in the ring-but the guy's an idiot. You saw him back there; he's totally dependent on that girl-but in total denial about how much he needs her." The Legend Killer's expression closed down. "If we told him the truth, it would break him...and as much as I'd like to see that guy jerk and twitch a little, we _need_ him for Survivor Series."

"True," Edge agreed. "But then again, if he loses the match for us, we _could_ just _happen_ to mention to Mike Knox how much time that wannabe's been spending with the lovely Kelly Kelly."

Randy snorted derisively. "Hell, I was gonna do that anyway!" His azure irises focused straight ahead, taking on that glazed appearance which indicated he was lost in thought. "Besides...there's someone I was planning on telling first...before we break the bad news to Nitro."

Edge opened his mouth to ask "Who?", but didn't get a chance to as Randy's arm shot out, grabbing onto his and dragging him to a halt. Without breaking his focus, the third-generation Superstar pointed in front of him. "_Bingo."_

The Ultimate Opportunist looked in the indicated direction, his gaze lighting on a figure about fifty yards up the hallway. Edge's mouth dropped open, and he glanced at his tag team partner, then the figure, then back again. "Oh, you are _evil_, dude." A pause. "Can I watch?"

Randy shrugged indifferently. "Suit yourself-just keep your distance." Edge nodded and shrugged off his title belt, leaning against the wall, his face aglow with an almost childlike eagerness. As he watched, the Legend Killer closed in on the figure, his movements slow and liquid, like a snake stalking its prey...

* * *

Maria was in the middle of composing a text message when she felt the tap on her shoulder. The backstage reporter looked up, her expression cooling immediately at the imposing figure of the Legend Killer. "What do _you_ want?" she asked, not even attempting to mask her disdain.

Randy cocked his head to the side, studying her. "Hey, 'Ria; got a minute?" His countenance was sympathetic, almost wounded...but his eyes were blue pools of emptiness.

"There's something I need to tell you..."


	25. Chapter 25: We Build Then We Break

**A/N: NEW CHAPTER! Finally, the thesis is done and my appendix is gone! (The appendix was not related to the thesis; it just decided to turn traitor and inflame on me). I'm in the process of updating all of my stories; this chapter I was planning out before I took a break to finish school. I'm not sure how I feel about my execution of it; I don't know if it's exactly what I wanted - but I hope that you will all enjoy it nonetheless. ENJOY! PEACE!**

**A/A/N: The song lyrics are from "Over My Head (Cable Car)" by the Fray; all rights, etc. belong to them.**

**Thank you to **Kyahbell, Esha Napoleon, DarkAngelMel2, PrettyReckless09, Extremist, BigRedMachineUK, bellebea, Normal Chick, XxxDarkCloudxxX, hdhd, wwekeks, **and **MelinaJeff1 **for reviewing! I love you ALL! *big hugs for everyone***

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Chapter 25: We Build Then We Break

As Melina gradually returned to wakefulness, the first sensation she was aware of was the light warm pressure of Jeff's arms wrapped around her.

The Dominant Diva slowly opened her eyes, blinking sleepily in the pale morning light, but otherwise remained perfectly still - lest she wake the younger Hardy brother. She couldn't remember the last time she had experienced this level of tranquility, as though all worry had been obliterated from her mind.

With Johnny - even before things had gotten bad - the paparazzi princess had always viewed mornings with a sort of impatience, as though with each second that she remained in bed, she could actually feel her status as a WWE Diva edging closer and closer to the back burner. But now, lying here next to the man she had fallen in love with, everything tangible that had once been of such great importance to her - Johnny Nitro, the Women's Championship, her career and her standing within the hierarchy of the WWE roster - no longer seemed to matter.

The only thing that mattered was the warm weight of Jeff's arm looped across her chest; the surprising strength of his fingers, which still gripped hers even in sleep; the soothingly repetitive sound of his breathing.

Melina let her eyes drift closed again as she snuggled just a little bit closer to the Charismatic Enigma. Even though the movement was slight, it was still just enough to rouse the younger Hardy - almost immediately, she felt his hand briefly squeeze hers; felt the soft brush of his lips against her skin as he kissed the curve of her neck.

And then his voice, little more than a drowsy murmur, his Southern drawl coating the words with even more warmth and richness: "Mornin', princess."

The Dominant Diva felt her mouth curve upward in a slow lazy smile. "Mornin'," she whispered, the word ending in a pleasurable gasp as Jeff's hands caressed her body, seeking out and locating more..._sensitive_...areas of her anatomy. She turned her head, moaning quietly in the back of her throat as he captured her mouth in a soft kiss.

Even though her mind was still half-asleep, her body was apparently wide awake - that first kiss had sent a rush of desire shooting through her limbs, and each subsequent one only intensified the feeling, until the need inside her was almost too much to bear. She rolled over onto her back and Jeff climbed on top, covering her tiny body without crushing her. Taking hold of her arms, he gently pinned them over her head, his fingers entwining through hers.

"You know," the Rainbow-Haired Warrior remarked, punctuating his words with soft kisses to her forehead, her cheek, her lips. "I have to say that this is turning out a _lot_ better than the _first_ time you woke up in my hotel bed." He paused, and the paparazzi princess had to bite back a moan as he kissed her throat, his tongue trailing against her skin. "As I seem to recall...you _screamed_ at me - and then told me to get out of my _own room_."

In spite of herself, Melina giggled; a low throaty sound. "Yeah...sorry about that," She gripped the back of Jeff's head with both hands, her fingers tangling in his multi-hued locks, sucking in a sharp delighted breath as the younger Hardy brother laid a line of kisses along the contour of her collarbone. "Although...in my defense...I was _really_ hungover...and at the time - I kind of hated your guts."

At this, the Charismatic Enigma lifted his head up, his emerald irises locking with hers, his expression sobering for a moment. "But not anymore...right?"

There was something so hesitantly childlike about his tone, as though he expected all of this to suddenly melt away like the evanescent quality of a dream, that the Dominant Diva felt her eyes involuntarily fill with tears. She squeezed his hand, the heated texture of his palm an equal reassurance to her that _this_ was indeed real. "Yeah..." the paparazzi princess whispered. "Not anymore..."

Jeff ducked his head down, preparing to seal her mouth in another kiss...and then, all of a sudden, there was a knock at the door.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior groaned with obvious irritation, pressing his forehead against Melina. "I swear to God," he whispered through gritted teeth. "If that's Housekeeping, I'm gonna tell them to fuck off-"

As though to belie this, the knock came again; harder this time and accompanied by a familiar voice: "Yo, Jeffro! Open up - it's Matt!"

To this, Jeff rolled his eyes. "This better be good." Nevertheless, he placed a gentle kiss on Melina's forehead and rolled out of bed, pausing long enough to don a pair of sweatpants before opening the door. "Yeah, what is it?"

His older brother stared back at him mildly, his expression a portrait of unwitting innocence. "Did I interrupt something?"

The Charismatic Enigma glared at his elder sibling. "_Shut up_ - don't tell me you came all the way here just to remind me to catch my flight."

Matt shrugged, unsuccessfully masking the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "No, not this time. I just figured that your _guest_ would want _these_-" He indicated the suitcase and oversized purse sitting next to him in the hallway. "-before she boards her plane home."

Jeff stared at the luggage for a second or two. "I'm not even going to ask-"

"It wasn't easy," Matt cut in. "I won't go into details - except to say that it involved a couple of interns and some monetary bribery - and let me tell you, I got more than a few weird looks in the lobby."

In spite of himself, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior felt the corner of his mouth curl up in a half-smile. He and Matt might not always see eye-to-eye, and his older brother's superior attitude might bug the crap out him most of the time - but at the end of the day, they were still _family_...and family _always_ looked out for one another. He reached out, grabbing the bags and pulling them into the room. "Thanks, man,"

He was about to close the door when Matt cleared his throat, his tone abruptly turning serious. "I just want to know one thing, bro..."

Jeff looked up, his green eyes meeting his brother's dark ones. Matt's gaze was unwavering. "This thing...between you and her..." For a heartbeat, his focus swung to the dim interior of the hotel room, then back to his younger brother. "...is it for real?"

Jeff's brilliant irises never left his brother; slowly, he bobbed his head up and down in a nod. "Yeah..." he replied.

For a long moment, Matt said nothing; merely stared back at him. Gradually, his face relaxed into a wry tight smile, and he returned the nod. "All right, then."

And with those three short words, Jeff knew - with the unspoken trust that exists between siblings - that no matter what happened after this...his brother would have his back.

The elder Hardy sibling lifted his hand in a brief wave. "See you back at home, dude." Jeff offered a wave of his own, and quietly closed the door.

As he walked back toward the bed, his bare feet padding softly against the carpet, he saw that Melina had sat up, holding the covers against her chest with one hand. Her long hair was tousled and tumbling over one shoulder; the morning light highlighting the planes of her face and making her even more beautiful.

Gazing at her, the Charismatic Enigma felt love and physical desire surge upward in him in equal parts. He climbed onto the bed, crawling over to the paparazzi princess and nuzzling her neck. "Now - where _were_ we?..." he murmured lazily, reveling in the intoxicating scent of her skin.

"Jeff?" The Dominant Diva's voice was so soft, so tentative, that it was enough to make the younger Hardy brother pause. He pulled back, gazing at her with concern. Melina's expression was apprehensive, and she bit her lip as she struggled to find the words.

In spite of his solicitude toward her, Jeff once again found himself in awe that he was even able to witness this side of Melina; this facet of her being that was gentle and fragile and unsure. He wondered how no one else could have glimpsed this aspect of her - but then again, maybe they had only seen what she had _wanted_ them to see.

After all, in this carnival-esque world of theirs, it was easier to hide your true feelings behind a mask of arrogance and disdain than admit how lonely you were - because loneliness made you vulnerable...and in the wrong hands, loneliness could be exploited.

Just as Nitro had exploited Melina's.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior reached out, gently caressing Melina's cheek with the backs of his fingers. At his touch, the paparazzi princess looked up, her dark eyes wide and bright with tears. She swallowed hard. "You know that I'm sorry...right? And not just for last week...but for _everything_-" Her voice broke as the first tears spilled down her cheeks. "-everything that I ever _said_ or _did_ to you-"

"Whoa, whoa! Princess!" Grabbing her face in his hands, Jeff pulled her to him, covering her face with soft kisses. "It's okay!" He held her against him, wrapping his arms tightly around her slender body, feeling her tremble and cling to him as she struggled not to cry. "It's okay," the Charismatic Enigma repeated quietly. "I've got you now...and you've got me...that's all that matters."

He felt the Dominant Diva wrap her arms around his neck; felt her breath dance across his skin as she whispered: "I love you..."

Jeff closed his eyes for a second, momentarily recalling his self-created adage...

_Being in love was like hitting that Swanton...when you fell, you FELL..._

"I love you, too, princess..." the younger Hardy brother murmured.

For a long moment, they remained there, holding one another. Eventually, Jeff pulled back, holding Melina's face between both of his hands, brushing away her tears with his thumbs. "So..." the Rainbow-Haired Warrior ventured cautiously. "What are you going to do now?"

The paparazzi princess shrugged, the movement both helpless and euphoric at the same time. "I don't know," she admitted. A ghost of a smile flitted across her face. "I guess...that makes me just like you, huh?"

The Charismatic Enigma didn't answer; only touched the tip of his nose to hers briefly before capturing her mouth in a deep lingering kiss.

Then another. And another...

* * *

_**And suddenly, I become a part of your past**_

_**I'm becoming the part that don't last**_

_**I'm losing you and it's effortless...**_

_This can't be happening..._

This singular thought pounded through Maria's head as she strode down the hall, like the annoying refrain of a song that one hated. Despite its repetitiveness, however, the backstage reporter endured it - mostly because even after seven days, it was the only coherent thought her brain seemed capable of producing...as though, in that one brief moment of paralyzing shock, all of her ability to cogitate rationally had been eradicated.

Or maybe because...there was some childishly foolish part of her that desperately wanted it to be true - as though by repeating the phrase enough times, like a magic incantation, it would somehow come to life and cast its spell on reality.

Wouldn't _that_ be nice - to wake up and realize that none of this had happened? To find out that the awful truth festering inside her like a cancer was nothing more than a bad dream?

Too bad life didn't work like that. No...life instead gave you just enough truth to know that it was for real, and just enough doubt to keep you from being certain, and then provided you with a third emotion - denial - so that you could pretend, with no small amount of futile desperation, that your world wasn't spinning out of control...

_This can't be happening...this CAN'T be HAPPENING..._

Maria was far from the clueless bimbo she portrayed on Monday Night Raw, but she _had_ come into the WWE with a certain amount of naivety. This sort of earnest sincerity had endeared her to a lot of Superstars and Divas...but it had also left her at the mercy of more than a few unscrupulous individuals; predators who preyed on that particular brand of vulnerability.

Randy Orton had been one of those guys, once upon a time - all the more reason not to believe him when he had approached her a week ago, and told her, rather bluntly...that Jeff was cheating on her.

_The backstage reporter snapped her phone closed, gripping it tightly in her hand like some sort of protective talisman as she stared up at the Legend Killer. "I don't believe you," she snapped, trying to sound assertive despite the vertigo-like sensation that was threatening to take hold of her. "You're LYING-"_

_ Randy chuckled softly, although there was no humor in the sound. "'Ria, angel...why on earth would I LIE?" To this, Maria had no answer...because he was right. The third-generation Superstar was one of the few individuals who had figured out that the truth, when uttered at the right time and under the right set of circumstances, could be far more manipulative and devastating than a lie. Randy didn't lie, because most of the time...he didn't need to._

_ The Legend Killer went on, cocking his head to the side. His eyes remained glued to her, and Maria couldn't get past how flat and lifeless they were, like those of a shark. "Don't look at me like that, angel - it's not MY fault you can't even satisfy your own boyfriend-"_

_ "Who is she?" The backstage reporter's retort came out louder than she had wanted, and she almost cringed at the obvious raw emotion gnawing at its timbre. She could feel something building inside her, like a small spark that will eventually set off an atomic-like explosion, but she swallowed it down, FORCED herself to; settling for glaring at the World Tag Team Champion. "If you know so much, then you must know who he's cheating on me with, so...who IS she?"_

_ From Randy, there was no answer, and after a second or two, the backstage reporter allowed her face to relax into a scornful smile. "I thought so," Tamping down the anxiety inside her - she didn't fear Randy Orton, but she didn't feel safe around him, either - she brushed past the Legend Killer. "This is all BULLSHIT-"_

_ "He's fucking Melina," Randy's voice was so soft that at first, Maria was sure that she'd imagined it. But then the full force of the truth slammed into her, with the same velocity as a test car crashing into a brick wall, and she stopped dead, her lungs suddenly devoid of air. _

_ As she stood there, unable to move, unable to THINK, she heard the soft scrape of Randy's boots as he approached her; felt the unwanted pressure of his hand on her shoulder. "You don't look all that surprised, angel," the Legend Killer remarked, his tone faintly amused. "Don't tell me you actually saw this coming-"_

_ "Why..." Maria's high-pitched voice cracked. There was no point in holding back the tears; she could already feel them trickling down her cheeks. She stared up at Randy helplessly, wondering how she could have possibly seen his cruelty as kindness; wondering how she could have ever believed that he was a human. "Why are you...telling...me this?"_

_ Randy shrugged, and the backstage reporter was stunned by the gesture; by the nonchalance of it all. "I just figured...that you would want to know." He said nothing further, but Maria could still hear the remainder of the thought, lingering in the air above them like a cloud of smoke..._

_ "And because I can, angel. Because I can..."_

_Maria spun around, dashing down the hallway away from the third-generation Superstar, the malicious laughter of Randy and his tag team partner mingling with the anguished sound of her sobs..._

The backstage reporter ground to a halt, the sudden motion jarring her back to the present. Since that moment, she had spent the past seven days in a fog of shock and denial - one which threatened to consume her. More than once, she had picked up her cell phone, fully prepared to call Jeff and demand the truth...and each time, she had been unable to go through with it.

Something as big as this, as _devastating_ as this...needed to be met head-on. If she was ever to attain peace - if peace was even something to be gained from a situation like this - then she would need to confront Jeff face-to-face. She would need to look him in the eye and determine for herself whether this new piece of information was in fact the truth.

Until then...the ambiguity was going to drive her crazy.

Maria cast a cautious look around. She had been searching for Jeff in the back hallways of Baltimore's Mariner Arena for the last twenty minutes, with no success. The Charismatic Enigma was by no means elusive...but tonight...it was almost as though he didn't _want_ to be found.

Then, just as she was about to resume her relentless pace, the backstage reporter spotted the object of her searching. The younger Hardy brother was about a hundred yards away, his back to her as he strolled down the hall. He hadn't noticed her, and something about his careless attitude - the way his hands were shoved into his pockets, the way he was bouncing on the balls of his feet as though he didn't have a care in the world - sent an involuntary rush of annoyance coursing through the Raw Diva's body.

It was as though he was not only unaware of the agony he'd put her through...but completely immune to it as well.

Maria quickened her step, attempting to close the distance between her and Jeff. She had barely covered a few feet, however, when the Rainbow-Haired Warrior ducked into a nearby dressing room, shutting the door behind him.

A handful of seconds later, the backstage had reached the door as well, and was just raising her hand to knock when she heard Jeff's voice from inside. At first, she thought he was on the phone - but then she heard a female voice answer his, its sound both strange...and completely familiar.

It was _Melina's _voice.

Maria's breath caught in her throat, and as she stood there, struggling to force oxygen back into her lungs, Jeff spoke again: "...I don't want you out there tonight - you might get hurt."

Melina: "I can take care of myself, Jeff."

Jeff: "I _know_ that, princess - but this isn't a regular match. We're going to be flinging _ladders_ at one another; if one of _those_ catches you in the head-"

Melina, more vehemently this time: "I _said_ that I can take of myself." A pause, then softer, hesitant: "If I don't...Johnny will suspect something. He's probably already furious that I've been avoiding him all evening. If I'm not there...it'll push him over the edge...and he'll take it out on _you_."

Another pause, longer this time, then Jeff, his tone quiet and resigned: "All right, princess; just...be careful, all right?"

Melina, almost too soft to hear: "I will..."

The pair fell silent, and for several long seconds, Maria couldn't hear anything. She leaned closer, until her ear was practically touching the wood. She could hear a few sounds emanating from within - the rustle of fabric, the scrape of shoes on concrete, which could have been _sighing_ - and then one noise cut across them all, startling Maria and sending her heart plummeting into the abyss...the sound of Melina's rapturous moans.

The backstage reporter involuntarily backed away from the door, as though there was a monster on the other side waiting to burst through and grab her. She could see for the first time that it wasn't closed all the way; that it was open just a sliver - and against her will, Maria felt herself reaching toward it; felt her palm push against the wood, widening the crack just enough to peek through-

A movie director could not have arranged the shot so perfectly. The space between the door and the jamb was just wide enough to afford her a perfect view of the makeup mirror, which in turn was angled in such a way that it caught the reflections of the two figures on the other side of the room.

Maria's eyes widened as she took in the unimaginable tableau: Melina's legs wrapped around Jeff's waist, her fingernails digging into his back, her head arched back and those _sounds_ - as harsh and grating as nails on a chalkboard to the backstage reporter's ears - escaping her throat, rising in pitch and intensity as the younger Hardy brother thrust into her again...and again...and again...

It was only a second...but it felt like an eternity. Bile climbed up her throat, so hot and thick and choking that for a second, Maria was certain that she was going to spew vomit like that little girl in The Exorcist. Clapping one hand over her mouth, stifling a low choked sob, she backed away and sprinted down the hall, running as fast as her stiletto heels would allow.

She knew that she was going to scream - she could feel the sound building and gathering momentum within her chest. Her only hope was that she could reach somewhere sufficiently secluded enough to release it; otherwise, the act of swallowing back all that pressure and emotion would no doubt rupture her heart within her chest.

Just as Maria was about to give up hope that such a location existed, she turned a corner and emerged out onto the loading dock. The area was deserted; the equipment truck hulking shadows in the dying light. Skidding to a halt at the edge of the platform, the backstage reporter screamed. It was a piercing shrill sound, full of misery and pain. She screamed until she thought her lungs would burst; until her throat was sore and she could no longer suck air back into her body.

And when she had finally stopped and the last reverberations of her wails had died away into silence, the Raw Diva slowly sank to the ground, legs splayed out on either side of her, her shoulders shaking as she wept.

Maria covered her face with both hands, tears leaking out between her fingers. It wasn't fair, it _just wasn't fair_. After all the jerks she had dated since coming to the WWE, she had finally allowed herself to believe that she had found a cute, funny, sweet guy who actually liked her for more than her face or her body.

Jeff was supposed to be the _exception_ - even before they had started dating, all of her friends had remarked about what a cute couple they'd make. And when the Charismatic Enigma had asked her to be his girlfriend...well, even now, she couldn't describe in words just how ecstatically happy she'd been.

But in the end, it had all been a lie...hadn't it? Just like all the others, Jeff had let her down, too. Not only had he cheated on her with another Diva - but that other Diva had been Melina.

_ Melina_...the one person that the younger Hardy brother had every reason to _hate_.

But the thing that hurt the most, more than knowing that she wasn't good enough, even more than knowing that Melina somehow _was_...was the realization that some small insignificant part had known for a long time that it was going to play out like this. And it wasn't based on what she had just witnessed - or when, a few weeks ago, she thought she had heard Jeff call her by another name.

No...she had known instinctively that it was all going to turn out this way when she had returned from ringside during a Lumberjill match to see the younger Hardy brother talking to the Dominant Diva. There had been this _look_ on his face - one she could still picture even now - of acute longing and need that he had _never_ shown toward her. Not prior to that moment...and not once in any of the moments that had followed had he _ever_ looked at the backstage reporter with that kind of intensity.

How could she ever _hope_ to compete with the paparazzi princess...when she couldn't even evoke that magnitude of feeling?

Maria slowly let her hands drop back down onto her lap. Her full lips were quivering, her voice barely more than a broken whisper. "All s-she ever did...was m-make his life miserable...so why h-her? Wuh-why h-her and n-not..._m-me_?" Her words melted away into tears as she broke down crying once again.

Part of her wanted to confront them; to kick open the door and watch both of them fumble for an explanation. But Maria already knew how that story would play out - she would cry and call him a liar, Jeff would make excuses, she would slap him and storm out. And then the most excruciating part of the pantomime would take place - the part where everyone would rally around her and tell her that it was all right, staring at her with those bland condescending expressions of pity.

The backstage reporter hated being pitied; it was as though, in everyone's eyes, she was reduced to this helpless simpering _thing_, incapable of standing up for herself or making rational decisions - even her closest friends were not immune to this particular emotion.

And in the end, what would happen to Melina? Nothing. At this rate, the paparazzi princess couldn't sink any lower in terms of her current social standing within the Diva hierarchy, and even if the other Divas gave her hell, she would always have _this_ to rub in Maria's face - the cold ugly fact that she'd managed to steal Jeff Hardy's heart...while the backstage reporter had never possessed it to begin with.

Maria's pretty features tightened, her tears slowing and ceasing altogether as her face became a icy hard mask. The Dominant Diva had taken _everything _from her...and she would be _damned _before she let that A-list skank get away with it. There had to be some way to make her pay; _there had to be some way_-

The backstage reporter went stock-still for a second or two as the idea washed over her. Pushing herself back to her feet, she stood, turning and walking back toward the arena. With each step, she could feel everything - emotion, warmth, caring - bleeding away; swallowed up by the notion of vengeance; the sensation like the cold wet embrace of grave dirt.

Maria walked down the halls, staring straight ahead, acknowledging nothing, until she arrived at a dressing room door. The backstage reporter paused, glancing up, her green eyes coldly scanning the printed letters to confirm that she did indeed have the right room.

_Johnny Nitro_

The Raw Diva felt her mouth stretch wide in a tight humorless smile. So no one had faith in her. So they regarded her as little more than an airhead; a beautiful moron who could barely even hold onto a _microphone_, let alone a _man_. So she was too sweet, too naive, too _dumb_ to _ever _be taken seriously.

Well, _that_...was all about to change.

Raising her hand, Maria knocked on the door.


	26. Chapter 26: You Wanted More

**A/N: NEW CHAPTER! This was one of those chapter where I almost didn't want to write it, mostly because I was impatient to tell what comes after. But I slogged through it anyway, and here we are. Oh, and sorry about the wait. I just moved YET again, and am still in the process of settling in. Oh, and typos! I hope there are none! Okay, I think that's it. ENJOY! PEACE!**

**A/A/N: The song lyrics are from "You Wanted More" by Tonic - all rights, etc. belong to them.**

**Thank you to **Normal Chick, cherrycokerocks, MelinaJeff, PrettyReckless09, x thelovelythings, Esha Napoleon, kyahbell, GiGi 501, extremist, BigRedMachineUK, Nightmare, **and **R Lucas Spitfire **for your reviews! I love you ALL!**

* * *

Chapter 26: You Wanted More

_**I don't know when I got bitter, but love is surely better when it's gone...**_

Jeff gingerly lay back on the hotel double bed, grimacing as he did so. The Charismatic Enigma had never walked - or, in most cases, _limped_ - away from _any_ ladder match feeling exceptionally great, but for some reason, tonight's bout against Johnny Nitro for the Intercontinental Championship seemed to have taken even more out of him.

On one level, the discomfort ravaging his body was understandable - after all, he'd taken a lot of hard bumps during that match. There wasn't one part of his lean frame that _hadn't_ made contact with the ladder - from a failed Swanton attempt, to a shot to the gut, to an instance where he had actually caught the metal steps awkwardly on his neck and shoulders seconds before eating a dropkick to the face.

But in the back of his mind, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior knew that the exhaustion currently weighing him down was due to more than just the sheer physicality of the bout. There had been an intensity in Nitro tonight; a viciousness that had never once surfaced in all of their prior match-ups - Jeff had felt it in every single one of the self-proclaimed A-lister's punches and kicks. It was as though the animosity that had been brewing between the two men for more than two months had finally boiled over; no longer about the Intercontinental Championship, but simply just..._personal_.

Truthfully, the younger Hardy brother didn't much mind; as far as _he_ was concerned, his hostility toward Johnny Nitro had become personal a _long_ time ago. In some ways, it was almost ironic that he was still the Champion - because, of the two of them during that match, only _Nitro_ had been concerned about the scrap of gold and leather dangling above the ring...while Jeff's focus had been on something infinitely more precious.

Or rather, on some_one_ watching from outside the ropes.

The soft, almost musical _clink_ of ice cubes jarred the Charismatic Enigma back to the present, and with effort, he turned his head toward the sound. Melina set the ice bucket down on the nightstand, her slender fingers deftly plucking out rough cubes of frozen water and depositing them in a plastic sandwich baggie. Once the bag was full, she sealed it up, wrapping a towel around it and flattening it out a little between her palms.

Just witnessing her simple gesture of tenderness - just as he had once done for her; for no other reason than to ease his pain - the Rainbow-Haired Warrior felt a warm rush of love and desire shoot through his veins like liquid sunshine. and he turned over onto his side, trying to edge nearer to her. Unfortunately, the act of doing so caused his already-bruised spine to twist uncomfortably, sending agonizing twinges shooting up his neck, and Jeff was unable to bite back a sharp hiss of pain.

At the sound, Melina looked up, her beautiful face instantly creasing in concern at the younger Hardy brother's discomfort. Makeshift ice pack in hand, she moved around to the other side of the bed, climbing onto the mattress and carefully inching over to where the Charismatic Enigma lay.

Jeff felt her hands touch his shoulders...and then let out an involuntary pain-filled yelp as the Dominant Diva pulled him bodily up and off his pillow. "Ow, ow, _ow_! What are you trying to do, princess - kill me?"

"Shhh..." the paparazzi princess whispered soothingly. "It's a secret remedy of mine - it'll make you feel better."

Jeff almost asked sarcastically what "secret remedy" could _possibly _be more comfortable than a couple Advil and a pillow, but wisely kept silent - after all, _she_ had the ice. Melina carefully rolled him over onto his back, lowering him gently back down onto the bed and resting his head in her lap.

As soon as his head hit her thighs, the younger Hardy brother felt all remaining smart-alecky comments die on his lips. The softness of Melina's skin beneath his cheek, the subtle aroma of her scent in his nostrils - already, he could feel his discomfort draining away.

He felt Melina's hands on his face, gently caressing his forehead, his cheek; her fingertips, cool from the ice, as soothing as any balm. "_Well_?" the Dominant Diva drawled, her tone affectionately coy.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior slowly opened his eyes, noting almost immediately that his new position provided him with the even-more welcome sight of the paparazzi princess's face staring lovingly down at him. Jeff felt a lazy smile slip across his lips. "You're right, princess," he murmured drowsily, his breath escaping him in a low contented sigh. "This _is _comfortable..."

"Hmm..." the Dominant Diva purred softly. She leaned down a little, and Jeff felt the ends of her long hair brush his face. "Just so you know...I also kiss boo-boos."

To this, the Charismatic Enigma arched one eyebrow questioningly. "_Really_?" he remarked, a flirtatious edge creeping into his voice. "What kinds of boo-boos?"

The paparazzi princess shrugged one shoulder; a simple seductive movement. "All kinds," she replied, blinking her dark eyes innocently.

In spite of himself, Jeff could feel the laughter pressing against his lips, and although he struggled valiantly to hold it back, eventually the hilarity of the situation became too much for him to contain, and he dissolved into chuckles. Melina soon joined him, her laughter emerging in a series of unladylike snorts, the sound of which made Jeff laugh even harder.

Gazing up at her, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior found himself marveling at the transformation taking place above him. With her skimpy outfit, elaborately styled hair, and carefully applied makeup, the young woman staring down at him was, by all physical appearances, still Johnny Nitro's girlfriend...but yet, all it took was one smile to transform her into a completely different person.

It would always be that smile - simple, sincere, brimming with unadulterated happiness - that would separate her from the cold arrogant individual at ringside; from the Diva that everyone loved to hate. With that smile, she was no longer a manager, no longer a _trophy_; she was just..._Melina_.

_His_ Melina.

All amusement ceased, however, as a new sound mingled with their laughter - the dull rumbling rattle of a phone set on vibrate. Melina's smile instantly vanished, the color draining from her face so completely that her makeup looked more like a layer of paint. She looked away, her gaze sliding over toward the nightstand. Jeff followed her line of sight, his own expression hardening slightly as his green irises locked onto the seemingly innocuous shape of the Dominant Diva's Sidekick, vibrating subtly as it rang again.

And again.

And _again._

The electronic device had been ringing almost non-stop since the pair had ducked out of the arena. Jeff hadn't asked who was calling, but in some ways, he didn't _need_ to - Melina's body language more than answered the question for him. He had glimpsed it several times during the drive to the hotel - the way she would ignore the phone until the third or fourth ring, before reluctantly digging it out of her bag. The way her dark eyes widened and her complexion blanched as she scanned the small digital screen. The way she would shove the Sidekick back into her bag, wiping her hand off on her skirt as though the device was somehow coated with an infectious disease.

The way - and this was the moment the younger Hardy brother hated most of all - she would avert her gaze immediately after, staring down at her lap or out the window, blinking rapidly as she struggled not to cry, her whole demeanor radiating fear and shame...

Part of Jeff wanted to grab that phone and throw it against the wall as hard as he could. It didn't matter that he and the paparazzi princess were the only two people in the room - because every time that thing rang, they were joined by a third. Every time that _sound_ would cut through the air, he could feel the aura of privacy surround him and Melina grow thin and shatter; could feel a noxious presence fill the room - as though the self-proclaimed A-lister had actually materialized in the corner, his eyes glaring a hole through both of them.

The Charismatic Enigma already had a long list of reasons to loathe Johnny Nitro - and now, it seemed that he could add yet another entry to that record...namely, the emotional and psychological control that the former Intercontinental Champion still had over his girlfriend and manager.

The Sidekick rang a few more times, then stopped. A toneless beep several seconds later indicated that there was a voice mail message. Jeff had been counting the beeps since the damn thing had started ringing - this was number thirteen.

As soon as the electronic device fell silent, the Dominant Diva's shoulders slumped, the air leaving her in a long shaky exhale. She looked back down at Jeff, her lips already parting to deliver an excuse - but then, she stopped. To do so would have been pointless, anyway - it was obvious that the Rainbow-Haired Warrior knew what was going on. Instead, Melina ducked her head down even more, her long reddish-brown hair falling forward and obscuring part of her face from view.

"You're still afraid of him...aren't you?" The younger Hardy brother's remark was both a statement and a question.

The paparazzi princess said nothing; only nodded miserably. Her voice, when she eventually did speak, was halting and barely audible: "I...I'm _sorry_-"

"Sorry for what?" Jeff abruptly sat up, ignoring the painful protests from his neck and back. He reached out, tucking a lock of hair back behind her ear, his fingertips tracing the curve of her cheek. "Sorry that he cheated on you? That he _hit_ you? That he gave you a _reason_ to be afraid of him?" He took her face in both of his hand, turning her towards him. "Princess...it's not your _fault_-"

"_Yes, it is_!" The Dominant Diva's tone was a low agonized whisper, tears glittering at the edges of her lower lashes. Her lips trembled with emotion. "I should have left...the _moment_ I found out he was cheating on me...but I didn't. I stuck around, _lying_ to myself, _telling_ myself that it would get better; that even if it _got_ worse, I could _handle_ it-"

Melina squeezed her eyes closed for a second. "Well...it _didn't_ get better, it _did_ get worse, and now...I-I don't know how to handle it." She slowly shook her head. "My whole career...I've always had a direction, always had a _plan_...but now I don't." Another deep shuddering breath. "I don't know..._what_ to do - and somehow, that scares me more than Johnny-"

She started to shake, and Jeff quickly pulled her to him, cradling her in his embrace. Melina leaned against him, sucking in breaths that were more like thin gasps, but she didn't cry - the Rainbow-Haired Warrior almost wanted to applaud her for that.

He rested his cheek against the top of her head, drinking in the warmth emanating from her body. "I don't have an answer for you, princess," Jeff admitted. "Anyone'll tell you, even Matt - I'm the _last_ guy in the world to have a plan for _anything_. And even if I _did_...it's not my place to tell you what to do with your life."

The Charismatic Enigma paused for a second, his arms tightening protectively around the Dominant Diva. "But here's what I _can_ do. It's obvious, to me at least, that you're terrified of Nitro; of talking to him, of even running into him. So - since we've got this big chunk of free time between now and Survivor Series - instead of heading back to LA and worrying whether that douchebag is gonna show up at your door..."

Jeff paused again, hesitating only a moment before uttering his next words: "...why don't you come down to North Carolina...and stay with me?"

He felt Melina stiffen, then pull back so she could look up at him. Her expression was lodged somewhere halfway between hopeful and bewildered. "You...mean that?"

"Yeah!" In spite of the situation, the younger Hardy brother felt a small sardonic smile touch the corners of his mouth. "And it _is_ a house - regardless of what you _may_ have heard, princess, I do _not_ live in a tent out in the middle of a field-"

Melina continued to stare at him, her countenance still full of that elated incredulity. "That-" Her voice cracked slightly, and it was only with effort that she was able to get the remainder of the sentence out. "That would be..._awesome_-"

"But there's a catch, princess," the Rainbow-Haired Warrior interjected gently. Instantly, the paparazzi princess tensed, wariness flitting across her features. Jeff went on. "The catch is...when we arrive in Philly on Sunday for Survivor Series...you decide what you're going to do about Nitro." He bent his head down a little, peering closely at the Dominant Diva. "Deal?"

For a heartbeat or two, there was no response, no movement...and then Melina nodded slowly, a tentative smile emerging on her face. "_Deal_," she whispered, that one solitary syllable saying everything that needed to be said.

Jeff returned her nod. "All right, then," he replied, echoing his older brother's words from a week ago. His grin widened. "Now...what were you saying about kissing boo-boos?"

As he watched, Melina's smile shifted ever-so-slightly; hinting at deeds that were far more intimate. "Where does it hurt?" the paparazzi princess murmured.

The younger Hardy brother tapped his lower lip. "Here." A second later, he felt Melina's mouth touch his, driving even thoughts of Johnny Nitro into insignificance...

* * *

_**Cause you wanted more**_

_**More than I could give**_

_**More than I could handle**_

_**And a life that I can't live**_

_**You wanted more**_

_**More than I could bear**_

_**More than I could offer**_

_**For a love that isn't there...**_

Nitro slammed his phone down onto the bed, running both hands through his highlighted hair. He'd been calling Melina for hours, all to no avail - no matter how many times he dialed her number, he still couldn't progress any further than her voice mail.

At first, he'd left lengthy messages, full of cajoling and phony sincerity, _assuring_ her that he _wasn't _mad, that he just wanted to _talk_; _pleading _with her to call him. But as the game of phone tag progressed and his patience dwindled, the prerecorded message of _Hi, this is Melina; leave a message..._ grinding on his nerves, the self-proclaimed A-lister's "wounded boyfriend" facade began to fade as well, until his missives were little more than terse barked directives of: "You know who this is. Call me _now_."

The former Intercontinental Champion fell back onto the coverlet, covering his face with his hands. Up until a few hours ago, everything had been right with the world - he had excused his girlfriend's odd behavior over the past few months as nothing more than an extended hormonal phase, and in spite of his title loss the previous week, was even willing to chalk her error up as an honest mistake.

In short, he'd been ready to _forgive_ her...and then, all of a sudden, that too had changed when that bimbo Maria had knocked on his dressing room door, throwing a perfectly aimed monkey wench into the well-oiled machinery of his thoughts...

_I just thought that you should know...your girlfriend's sleeping with someone else..._

Nitro could still picture her, standing there in the doorway, staring up at him, her beautiful features composed and eerily doll-like. He could recall how the shock had slammed into him, abrupt and unrelenting, bubbling up his throat with such force that he almost choked - eclipsed almost immediately by the rage.

He had almost punched her; had actually had to grab his own hand and force it back down to his side. He had settled for glared at the backstage reporter instead, practically spitting his retort into her face:

_You lying bitch - who the FUCK do you think you are..._

The Maria he knew would have backed down when faced with such a confrontation - or at the very least, gotten that frightened deer-in-the-headlights look. But the Maria in front of him did neither; merely met his gaze steadily; her emerald irises cool and appraising.

It had been that look, ultimately, that had unnerved the self-proclaimed A-lister and compelled him to fall silent, at which point the backstage reporter calmly continued:

_I suppose you want to know who it is. _To this, Nitro had no recourse but to nod. He remembered that Maria had glanced down at her fingernails, running her thumb over the tops before flicking her green gaze up toward him once again. _If I were you...I'd pay attention to how she looks at Jeff Hardy..._

It was such a perfect remark - uttered with the same devastating calculation that he had seen Melina use time and time again - that Nitro had no choice but to admire it, even as he felt it taking effect, penetrating him to the marrow, poisoning him with its truth. He'd had no time to ponder it then - a technician had materialized at that moment, summoning him to gorilla, and just barely after he'd arrived at the staging area, it had been time for him and Melina to make their entrance.

With all the thoughts swirling around his head - the bombshell Maria had dropped on him, his own doubts and fears - Nitro was amazed that, to a certain degree, he'd been able to compartmentalize and remain rational; focusing on the match at hand without being totally overwhelmed by his emotions. However, he _did _notice a certain amount of distance radiating from Melina; how she seemed reluctant to touch him or even look in his direction; how - after every offensive move he hit - instead of the triumphant primal screams he was accustomed to hearing, there was only deafening silence from her side of the ring.

It had been that detachment, in the end, that had pissed him off - the biggest match of his career, and yet his girlfriend, his ace in the hole, had checked out mentally. The self-proclaimed A-lister couldn't recall exactly _when_ he had snapped; only that he _had_, storming toward the ropes, leaning down over them as he bellowed at her...

_Hey! What the FUCK is wrong with you? I'M the one you need to be concerned about! I'M the one that matters! What the fuck could you possibly-_

Then Jeff's elbow had connected with the back of his head...and everything following that was understandably hazy. The next thing he could remember with any sort of clarity was looking around once the referees had pried the ladder off him, searching for the Dominant Diva...and realizing, with the sort of dull comprehension that follows the death of denial, that she had already gone.

_Gone_. _Without him_. And the fact that she wasn't here to explain herself, the _fact _that he couldn't even reach her on the _phone_...well, it only served to hammer the point home even further that not only was she gone...but she was with someone else.

And not just _anyone_...but a burned-out junkie _has-been _who had done nothing more than make both of their lives miserable.

Nitro gritted his teeth, sliding his hands to his ears, but it wasn't enough to keep reality from slipping in, shouting with all the ear-splitting volume of a jackhammer...

_Jeff Hardy. _

_Melina - HIS Melina - was screwing Jeff Hardy._

"_No!_" With a guttural roar, the former Intercontinental Champion sat up, practically vaulting to his feet. He tore his hands through his hair again, hard enough to pull strands of it out by the roots. "How could she _do_ that to me - with _him_ - after _everything _I've given her?" His eyes darted wildly around the room, as though daring someone to emerge from the shadows and contradict him. "That...that..._that_-"

"I believe the word you're looking for...is _bitch_."

Hearing the unexpected feminine voice, Nitro whipped around, his eyes bulging in surprise when he saw Maria, leaning against the doorframe to the bathroom, staring at him mildly as though she'd been here the whole time.

The self-proclaimed A-lister's mouth moved as he struggled to find the words. "You...you..." Then, all at once, coherence returned to him and he spat the syllables out in a rush: "How did..._you_...get in here?"

The backstage reporter glanced behind her nonchalantly. "I don't know if you know this - but your door's not even _closed_...and I could hear your screaming at the other end of the hall." She shrugged. "As for how I _found_ you...I asked around. Discreetly, that is."

Nitro stared at her for a second or two, the breath tearing in and out of his lungs in ragged pants. Slowly, he shook his head. "You've got some fucking nerve, you know that?" He gestured at himself. "After what you did - telling me a shit story like that just right before my match-" Another head shake. "For all I know, that _loser _boyfriend of yours sent you just to throw me off my game-"

"Hey!" At the sound of Maria's voice, the former Intercontinental Champion fell silent. There was a sharpness to her tone; a sort of unmistakable authority that Nitro had never imagined could even _exist_ in her. The backstage reporter went on, her green eyes flashing with barely contained anger. "_First_ of all - if you're going to call someone out for using their _girlfriend_ to help them win a match...then you're just the pot calling the kettle black. _Second..."_

Maria paused for a moment, tilting her chin up just a fraction. "_Second,_" she iterated. "If what I told you was a _lie..._don't you think I would have picked something _other_ than _my_ _boyfriend's_ name?"

To this, the self-proclaimed A-lister had no response, and he grudgingly snapped his mouth shut. Maria pushed her lithe frame upright, crossing both arms over her chest and advancing toward the former Intercontinental Champion. "My point is...Jeff didn't send me. I doubt that he knows that I know."

She paused, a thoughtful expression momentarily drifting across her face. "Which could be useful...because it means that he still trusts me."

In the back of his mind, Nitro wondered what exactly she meant by that, but never got a chance to ask before the backstage reporter changed the subject. "So..." Maria stepped out into the main area of the hotel room, nodding her chin in his direction. "Now that _you_ know...and if the screaming was any indication, you know it's the _truth..._" Her emerald irises never wavered from his. "What are you going to do now?"

"What do you _think_?" Nitro retorted. "The next time I see her, I'm kicking her lying ass to the curb," The corner of his mouth twisted up in a bitter half-smile. "I should do it in the middle of the ring at Survivor Series - once we win, of course - just so the entire _world_ can see how big a _whore_ she is..."

His voice trailed off as he noticed Maria's expression. The backstage reporter did not seem impressed by his claim - if anything, she seemed _disappointed_. The former Intercontinental Champion scowled. 'What? Don't tell me that you actually feel _sorry_ for her? You hate her guts, just like everyone else-"

The Raw Diva shrugged again, the movement somehow simultaneously indifferent and adorable. "Oh, no, it's not that," Her emerald irises shifted upward, locking onto his once more. "It's just that...once you dump her..._then what_?"

To this, Nitro frowned, his brow creasing in confusion. Maria went on, her voice slow and patient, as though she was explaining instructions to a very small child...but also laced with the faintest hint of mocking. "I mean, from what _I've_ heard, it's still up in the air whether or not you can even _win_ a match on your own - so why would you want to get rid of the one advantage that you _have_?"

There was a straight-backed chair against the wall; Maria grabbed it, tugging it behind her as she walked toward Nitro. "Besides - if you _dump_ her, what's to stop her from offering her..._services_..._elsewhere_?" With one deft move, she flipped the chair around, straddling it and leaning forward against its back.

It was spooky, Nitro realized, hearing those words in that tone emerge from that Barbie-doll-like face. It was as though the bubbly empty-headed facade he had always assumed to be the _real_ Maria had been abruptly torn away, revealing an individual more calculating, more devious, and - quite possibly - more _vicious_ than Melina. In some ways, it was a little bit like growing up and learning that the sugary-sweet fairy tales you read as a kid were really dark bitter reflections of reality.

The backstage reporter was still talking, the light in her green eyes practically a challenge by now: "-tell me, _Johnny_, what's worse? _Losing_ to Jeff...or seeing _your_ girlfriend in _his_ corner, actively _making sure_ that you _lose_?"

Nitro narrowed his eyes, at a loss for words, but in no way willing to concede defeat. "So..what?" he shot back. "You have a better idea?"

"As a matter of fact..." Maria daintily propped her wrists up on the chair back, crossing one over the other. Her expression was sweet, innocent...but her eyes were like green shards of ice.

"I _do_..."


	27. Chapter 27: Calm Before The Storm

**A/N: NEW CHAPTER! I apologize for the wait; I've been working on a new screenplay, one which not only dominated my time, but also gave me crazy acid flashbacks about how much I hated high school. Right now, I'm between drafts, and decided it would be a perfect time to update my FF. Sorry if this chapter isn't as strong-I've been knee-deep in screenplay format, which is like night and day, and I had to break myself of a bunch of recently developed habits while writing this. If this doesn't make sense, I'm sorry-there comes a point where my brain stops working. Anyway, ENJOY! PEACE!**

**Thank you to **Esha Napoleon, mariahbenetatos, PrettyReckless09, BigRedMachineUK, Extremist, MelinaJeff1, x thelovelythings, Deppfan, **and **cherrycokerocks** for reviewing! You are AWESOME! I love you ALL!**

* * *

Chapter 27: Calm Before The Storm

The car's tires crunched softly against gravel as Jeff steered the vehicle carefully down the winding driveway. The Charismatic Enigma's home wasn't exactly out in the woods - just set far enough back from the main road so that the average person couldn't just stumble onto it by accident...which was the way that Jeff preferred it.

The younger Hardy brother had always had a reclusive side, even back before he and Matt had become household names. It had devolved into a crutch during his darkest days; a vain attempt to hide his growing addictions from everyone around him. But now that he was clean and the worst of his demons had been left far behind him, that same personality quirk was now merely an instinctual recoil from the aura of stardom that seemed to cling to him no matter where he went.

Celebrity - it was a strange double-edged sword. That same world that loved you, that _adored_ you...it also judged you at the same time - and if you didn't have somewhere to escape, if you allowed yourself to become lost in everyone else's opinions of you...there was a good chance you could wake up one morning and find that the very core of what made you _you_ had inexplicably disappeared, never to return.

In a way, he understand Melina's desire to flee. It was a feeling that he shared; that _all_ of the performers in the WWE felt to some degree - the need to outrun their own popularity, to get away from the image everyone else had of them. Out here, in this ordinary house, on the outskirts of an ordinary town, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior was a different person; a calmer, saner, _wiser_ version of Raw's resident adrenaline-craving daredevil. Out here, there was no need to perform, to entertain, to _lie_ - he could just stand still for a second and _breathe_.

Perhaps that was the main reason that the Dominant Diva was so unhappy - in her world, there _was_ no escape. No matter what happened to Jeff in the ring, he always had _this_ place to come back to; for Melina, there was no such refuge. She had lived the lie so long that it had become the truth, and in her mind, there was no way to shake off the bitchy persona she had created.

But that was all about to change.

Jeff glanced over at the passenger seat, a slow smile slipping across his face. Melina's head lolled to one side, her chin tucked against her shoulder as she slept. With her oversized sunglasses covering her eyes and her full lips parted slightly, she looked absolutely adorable.

It had been hell getting here - first the rigamarole of changing flights, then the additional chore of coaxing a perfect stranger to switch seats so he and the paparazzi princess could at least sit together. It was early afternoon by the time they landed in North Carolina - but yet, once the wheels had touched ground and he felt Melina's hand grip his, all Jeff had felt was the same satisfaction he experienced every time he dove off that turnbuckle; the realization that _it __was __worth __it_, no matter what the cost.

The Charismatic Enigma turned the steering wheel, rounding a bend, his house emerging into view up ahead. He tapped the brakes, stopping the vehicle in front of the closed garage door. The subtle movement jarred the Dominant Diva out of slumber, and she stirred, stretching slightly as she sat up straighter. "Ummm...are we there yet?" she asked, the last word almost swallowed up by an enormous yawn.

Jeff turned off the ignition, twisting around in his seat to grin at the Raw Diva. "We're here, princess." He watched as Melina pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head, leaning forward as she peered up at the unadorned facade of the simple two-story house. The younger Hardy brother followed her line of sight for a moment, before glancing back at her. "I know, it's not much - but it's home."

The Dominant Diva tore her gaze away from the house, her dark eyes locking onto his green ones. "No...it's great." A rare smile appeared on her lips, lighting up her face from within. "It's really great," she repeated, and Jeff felt whatever uncertainty he still possessed melt away beneath the pure child-like delight and sincerity in her tone.

The pair exited the car, pulling their luggage out of the trunk. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior jogged up the short flight of cement steps, unlocking the front door and then stepping aside to allow the paparazzi princess to enter first.

Melina stepped tentatively into the foyer, walking the few paces into the living room. Patches of golden sunshine drifted through the windows, illuminating the sofa, the armchairs, the glass-topped coffee table. The space wasn't particularly neat, but the Dominant Diva didn't mind - if anything, it set it apart from the endless cavalcade of blandly sterile hotel rooms; reminding her that this was _more_ than just a place to sleep, this was a _home_.

Home...up until this moment, she'd always assumed the word meant someplace with walls, a roof, and a floor that was designated as yours. But now, standing here in Jeff Hardy's living room, Melina realized that the term referred to so much more than that. Having a home - it wasn't about the space or the physical objects you filled it up with...but, rather, the memories and emotions you created and played out within its walls.

She could feel those sensations - full of love and laughter and warmth - leaching up out of every surface, and the longer she stood there, soaking in its aura, the more and more clinically impersonal her apartment back in Los Angeles seemed.

Behind her, she heard the front door close, followed by Jeff's hand against the small of her back, his voice a low murmur: "How about we take our stuff upstairs, and then I show you around?"

With effort, Melina tore her gaze away from the living room's inviting interior. "All right," Hefting her large suitcase with both hands, she followed the younger Hardy brother up the dark wooden staircase to the second floor.

The master bedroom was at the end of the hall, and since its windows faced away from the light, dim even in the mid-afternoon sunshine. The first thing the paparazzi princess saw when she entered the room was the massive queen-sized bed, covered with a plaid comforter in muted blues and greens.

The Charismatic Enigma set his suitcase down, spreading his arms wide to indicate the space. "As you can see, this is my room." He nodded toward the bed. "There's plenty of room for two - although, if you'd feel more comfortable, there's a guest room down the hall-"

"No!" At the sharp, almost panicked note in Melina's voice, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior looked back, concern creasing his forehead. The Dominant Diva immediately closed the distance between them, reaching out to take one of his hands in both of hers. "I mean...I want to stay with you." Her voice dropped to a hesitant whisper, and the paparazzi princess ducked her head, blushing.

The worry evaporated from Jeff's countenance, and he carefully disentangled his hand, reaching out with both arms to encircle Melina's waist, pulling her close. Dipping his head down, he sealed her mouth in a soft kiss, his pulse rate increasing ever-so-slightly upon hearing the Dominant Diva moan quietly in the back of her throat.

The younger Hardy brother eventually pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. "You know," he remarked after several long seconds of comfortable silence had gone by. "I was going to give you the grand tour...but from the way you keep eying my bed, something tells me you'd do a lot better with a nap."

The paparazzi princess shook her head vehemently. "No, I-" Right on cue, the remainder of her sentence was engulfed by another huge yawn. Jeff raised his eyebrows in response, as though to say: "I told you so." Melina shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry...I guess I must be more tired than I thought."

The Charismatic Enigma smiled. "Not a problem, princess." Leading Melina over to the bed, he watched her kick off her shoes and stretch out on the mattress, her tiny frame almost dwarfed by its broad expanse. Jeff unfolded a handmade quilt lying at the foot of the bed and covered her with it, then climbed onto the bed himself, stretching out next to the Dominant Diva.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, resting his hand against the flat plane of her stomach. He felt the paparazzi princess snuggle closer to him; felt her slender body sag slightly as she let her breath out in one long sigh...and just like that, she was gone, caught in the grasp of slumber.

Jeff pressed his face against the heated softness of her hair, breathing in her scent. He could feel fatigue weighing down his limbs, as though Melina's exhaustion was somehow a contagion that had now been passed on to him...but it was more than just that.

There had been only a handful of moments when he had felt this particular sensation; this sort of exquisite harmony with the world and his place within it. The first time he and Matt had won the Tag Team Championships. The instant he had stepped out onto the ramp in his second return to the WWE. And now, lying here next to Melina, drinking in her warmth, her _nearness_, knowing that he loved her and that she loved him...it was as though every mistake, every bad decision in his life, had also been a blessing in disguise - because in the end, they had ultimately led him to her.

A moment later, sleep claimed him, too, and he knew no more.

* * *

Melina awoke sometime later to the various aromas of cooking food. The Dominant Diva sat up, rubbing her eyes sleepily as she struggled to get her bearings. The room was dark - dusk had fallen outside and the space was swathed in shadows. Melina looked around, momentarily unsure of where she was - and then it all came back to her: _Jeff...North __Carolina...his __home._

The paparazzi princess swung her legs over the side of the bed, her brain sorting the mingled aromas in the air into individual components: chicken, herbs, spices. Immediately, she heard her stomach grumble impatiently, reminding her that all she'd had to eat that day was a granola bar prior to their flight.

Stretching her arms up over her head, Melina rose to her feet, padding softly onto sock-clad feet out into the hall and down the stairs. Jeff was in the kitchen, with his back to her, his multi-hued hair pulled back in a ponytail. He was peering into the oven - the Dominant Diva caught a glimpse of golden-brown chicken breasts and thighs before he shut the door again.

The younger Hardy brother turned, jumping a little at the sudden appearance of the paparazzi princess. "Jesus, princess, you scared me," he remarked, but there was no accusation in his tone; only a sort of warm amusement. He crossed the space between them, leaning down to give her a kiss. "Hope I didn't wake you,"

Melina shook her head. "No, you didn't." She glanced behind Jeff; at the trappings of food preparation spread out across several counters. "I have to say I'm surprised - what's the occasion?"

Jeff's mouth curled upward in a wry grin. "You, mostly - but my brother's also coming over for dinner; I hope that's okay."

Melina returned his smile. "Of course," Another glance at the various utensils and food items. "Anything I can do to help?"

Jeff looked back at the cutting board, where a bag of lettuce and several tomatoes sat, awaiting their incorporation. "Well...if you _want_...you can start making the salad-"

The words weren't even out of his mouth before the Dominant Diva sidled past him, grabbing a knife out of the butcher's block and beginning work on the tomatoes. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior watched her slice up the vegetables with expert ease, aware that his mouth was hanging open in surprise.

Melina glanced back over her shoulder, noting his astonishment and flashing him a coy smile in reply. "What? Contrary to what you _may_ have heard, we actually know how to _cook_ out in Los Angeles."

With effort, Jeff managed to snap his mouth shut. "Well, then, I stand corrected-" He stopped, his ears picking up the faint familiar crunch of tires on gravel. "That must be Matt," He walked over to the paparazzi princess, giving her shoulders an affectionate squeeze, leaning down to kiss her cheek. "I'll go let him in - be right back."

Melina said nothing; only flashed him another smile before focusing on her chopping. Jeff exited the kitchen, just in time to hear the front door. He bounded into the foyer, a warm greeting poised on his lips - and then abruptly stopped dead, his smile evaporating instantly as another figure stepped through the doorway.

As though from a great distance, he heard himself speak, his previously relaxed tone now forced and stammering: "Ash! What...what're _you_ doing here?"

The Dirty Diva shook her head, her face crinkling up in a bemused smile. "Hello to you, too." She looked back toward the open door, where Matt was just now ascending the front steps. "Matt! Your brother is being his usual charming self!"

The elder Hardy brother merely rolled his eyes as he walked over the threshold; Ashley glanced back at the Charismatic Enigma, shrugging. "Matt invited me down. It wasn't that hard of a decision, considering that the alternative was to sit in my empty apartment for the next five days and watch trashy television."

The SmackDown Diva's blue-green eyes narrowed slightly, as she favored the younger Hardy sibling with a critical look. "Why're you so jumpy? Don't tell me you were in the middle of watching porn."

"No, I-" Jeff's voice trailed off, and he shot a helpless look at his brother. Comprehension immediately flitted across the elder Hardy brother's features, his amused countenance fading, his dark eyes flicking to a point above Jeff's shoulder. "She's here...isn't she?" His voice was flat, making the query sound more like a statement.

Jeff said nothing; only nodded miserably. Ashley glanced from one brother to the other, her own smile disappearing and a frown taking its place. "Okay, what's up? Now _both_ of you are acting weird." She stared hard at the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. "Is there something going on that I don't know about?"

"Jeff?"

All three of them froze as Melina materialized around the corner, wiping her hands on a dish towel. The paparazzi princess stopped dead in her tracks, a startled gasp escaping her throat at the sight of Ashley, the towel slipping from her hands and falling to the floor. The Dirty Diva's reaction was equally astonished; Jeff was certain for a moment or two that her bulging eyes were going to pop right out of her skull and roll across the floor.

For several tense agonizing seconds, no one said anything; merely stared at one another like participants in a Mexican standoff. Melina was the first one to eventually speak, clearing her throat awkwardly, the words tumbling from her mouth in a forced squeak: "Ashley! I didn't know that-"

Ashley, however, was already backing away, the shock in her expression rapidly being replaced by anger. She jabbed her finger accusingly at the Dominant Diva, her voice a strident bark: "What the _fuck_ is _she_-"

That was all she got out before Matt clapped his hand over her mouth, stifling her cries. Grabbing her arm, he dragged the struggling DIva toward the threshold with a terse: "Outside, _now_.", slamming the door behind them.

Both Jeff and Melina flinched at the harsh _BANG_ of wood hitting wood. Slowly, the younger Hardy brother reached out, wrapping his arm around the paparazzi princess's shoulders, pulling her against him. He could feel Melina shaking, like a small dog in a strong wind. Her voice was a soft, tearful whisper: "Jeff...did I do...something _wrong_?"

The Charismatic Enigma immediately shook his head. "No...no, you didn't." He leaned down, gently kissing her on the temple; his gaze, however, remained fastened on the door. "This has nothing to do with you."

It was a lie, and they both knew it.

* * *

"Let _go_ of me!"

Ashley wrenched free of Matt's grip, stumbling down the front steps and almost face-planting on the gravel. She recovered, however; whirling around and fixing her boyfriend with an accusing glare. "What the hell, Matt? What the hell is that _bitch_ doing here?"

"Would you keep your voice down?" the elder Hardy brother retorted through gritted teeth.

"What for?" the Dirty Diva shot back. "Are you afraid she'll _hear_ me?" She stormed toward her boyfriend. "Why is she even _here_? What _reason_ would that _skank_ have to be anywhere _near_ here?"

Matt met her furious gaze without flinching, and his voice, when he eventually did speak, was low and tightly controlled. "Why do you think she's here?"

The Diva Search winner stared at him for a moment, the ire in her countenance gradually melting away and awareness taking its place. "No...no _way_. _Her_...and _Jeff_? That's _crazy_-" She backed up, sagging awkwardly against the front of the car, blinking stupidly in the faint light.

"It's not crazy," Shoving his hands in his pockets, Matt approached his girlfriend, his expression sympathetic. He took up a position next to her, sitting on the hood of the car. "I know it seems impossible...and part of me still thinks that it is...but it's the truth."

"I don't..._understand_," Ashley's voice was soft, hesitant. She shot a look in her boyfriend's direction, her beautiful features full of child-like confusion. "Why didn't Maria _tell _me?"

Matt felt his expression sag. "Huh?"

The Dirty Diva went on, seemingly oblivious to the elder Hardy brother's incomprehension. "Maria...she's _crazy_ about Jeff - something like this, it would have _killed_ her, so I don't understand why she..." Her voice trailed off as she gradually grasped that, with the utterance of one bewildered syllable, Matt had just revealed an entirely new facet of the situation.

Slowly, Ashley looked over at him; there was a look on her face that Matt couldn't quite read in the fading light. "Oh my God...she doesn't know...does she?"

The elder Hardy brother said nothing; only stared back at her. An indeterminable moment of uncomfortable silence crept by - and then the Diva Search winner sprang to her feet, shoving her boyfriend hard with both hands. "_Jesus_, Matt!"

The SmackDown Superstar stumbled back a pace or two, glaring at his girlfriend with more than a little irritation. "Calm down, will you?"

"_Calm __down_?" the Dirty Diva echoed incredulously. "That's easy for _you_ to say - how long have you _known_ about this, anyway?"

Matt didn't answer at first. "A while," he admitted after several seconds had elapsed.

"_A __while_?" his girlfriend repeated sarcastically. "Your _brother_ is cheating on one of my best friends with some _slut_ who thinks she's Paris Hilton - and you couldn't even be bothered to _tell _me?" She punctuated her statement with another hard shove. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"_Listen __to __me_!" The elder Hardy brother grabbed his girlfriend by the shoulders, yanking her toward him, jamming his face into hers. "First of all, I agree with you about Maria. I think it's fucked-up that he's leading her on like this, and if he had any balls at all, he would tell her the truth and get it over with."

The SmackDown Superstar paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Look, I was just like you, all right? I thought: 'There's no way those two have anything in common.' But I've seen them together and I've seen them apart...and I'm telling you, Ash...they don't work without the other."

Matt sighed heavily. "Look, I'm not asking you to be her best friend - I'm just asking you to keep an open mind." He bent his head down, peering hard into her face. "Can you do that for me?"

Another agonizing increment of time crept by, during which Matt was almost positive Ashley was going to jerk free and tell him to go to Hell. Eventually, though, the Diva Search winner sagged slightly, her expression simmering with a sort of resigned resentment. "All right," she replied, her tone full of that same sarcastic defeat. "I'll _try_ - but only because _you_ asked me."

She leaned forward a little, her blue-green irises narrowing to tiny slits. "I'm not doing it for _him_ - and I'm _certainly __not_ doing it for _her_." Spitting the last word out, she pulled free, storming up the front steps through the door and slamming it closed behind her.

* * *

Dinner was a terse affair, with no one saying much of anything. Afterwards, once the dishes had been cleared, Jeff suggested that they build a bonfire out in the backyard. Matt immediately chimed in to help - leaving the two Divas to sit out on the deck and observe the construction process.

Melina hugged the thick blanket tighter around her, shivering. Down in the yard, the brothers were arguing about the placement of sticks and the distribution of gasoline. The Dominant Diva shot an amused glance at her SmackDown counterpart. "At this rate, it'll be springtime before they get that thing lit."

Ashley didn't answer, or give any indication that she had even heard. She continued to stare straight ahead, her face shadowed beneath the brim of her black trucker hat, her expression stony.

The paparazzi princess's tentative smile drooped, and she looked away, staring down at her lap. Several minutes of tense silence ticked by - punctuated by the occasional epithet or curse word from the direction of the yard - before Melina awkwardly cleared her throat. "Look...Ashley..."

Still no reaction from the Diva Search winner; the Dominant Diva bravely went on. "I know that...I've said and done a lot of shitty things...things that I can't even begin to make up for." She lifted her head, fixing her gaze on the Dirty Diva. "And whatever I've done...to you...I'm sorry-"

"You really don't get it, do you?" Ashley's voice was low and terse, as though she was clenching her jaw as she spoke. She turned her head toward the paparazzi princess slightly; the movement sharp, staccato. "This has _nothing_ to do with me."

The Diva Search winner slowly shook her head. "Did it _ever_ occur to you, that while you and Jeff snuggle and play house, _Maria__'__s_ sitting at home all by herself, _knowing_ that her boyfriend's pulling away from her, and wondering what _she _did to make him act that way. And that's fucked-up...because, out of everyone...she's the _one_ person who didn't do anything wrong."

"I know," Melina replied miserably. She gnawed on her lower lip. "For what it's worth...I'm sorry-"

"You think that _changes_ anything?" Ashley interrupted bitterly. "Just because you _say_ you're _sorry_?" The Dirty Diva shook her head again. "If I was even _half_ the friend I claim to be, I'd be on the phone with 'Ria right now, telling her the truth, telling her _exactly_ what her boyfriend's up to-"

"Then why aren't you?" The words popped out of Melina's mouth before she could stop them, harder and more challenging than she had intended.

There was a long moment of silence, and even though the Dominant Diva couldn't see her face, she could feel Ashley's eyes on her in the dark. "Because Matt vouched for you," the Diva Search winner replied, her tone slightly gentler than it had been a second ago. "He _stood __up_ for _you_ - when he's got even _less_ reason than Jeff to do so."

Ashley looked away, watching the pair of brothers as they assembled the bonfire. "Jeff might have lost his mind...but I'm pretty sure that Matt hasn't...so when he says that you and Jeff don't work without one another...I believe him."

There was another pause, as the Dirty Diva drew in a tentative breath. "And also...as much as I adore 'Ria, and as cute as I thought she and Jeff were together...the truth is that I never _once_ saw him look at her the way he looks at you." Another pause, and in its void, Melina could hear the remainder of Ashley's inner defenses giving way. "He loves you...and you love him."

The paparazzi princess felt her head bob up and down in a nod. "Yeah...I do."

Even in the faint light, she could still make out Ashley echoing the movement. "And if that's good enough for Matt...then I guess it's good enough for me, too."

Another silence drifted between the two Divas, but for the first time, there was nothing uncomfortable about it. Gradually, Ashley cleared her throat. "So...what does this mean for Johnny 'Don't Call Me Monday' Nitro?"

At the mention of her "boyfriend", the Dominant Diva rolled her eyes. "I hate him, and I don't want anything more to do with it."

The Dirty Diva let out an abrupt hoot of laughter. "_Finally_! Something we _both _can agree on! Fist bump!" She extended her fist, and after a few uncertain second, Melina reached out with her own, tapping her knuckles against Ashley's.

The SmackDown Diva drew her hand back, twisting around in her chair to face the paparazzi princess, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "So...care to make a wager on which one of those two is going to light themselves on fire first?"

Melina stared at her dumbly for a moment or two before the hilarity of the statement crashed over her and she nearly fell out of her chair laughing. Ashley soon joined her, tears of laughter rolling down her face.

The two Divas giggled and talked, while their boyfriends built a fire - all of them blissfully unaware that in less than five days, all hell would break loose.


	28. Chapter 28: Done With You

**A/N: NEW CHAPTER! Yes, seriously! I know, I know, it has been an EXTREMELY long time since I updated - I was writing a screenplay, finishing some other stories, working, dealing with personal issues, etc. But like I said, I never abandon anything, and this story is one of my main focuses now. Writing this chapter took FOREVER - I'm still not quite back in the groove of this fic, and I started to hate it toward the end, but I really hope you like it.**

_****_**A/A/N: The songs lyrics are from "This Isn't Everything You Are" by Snow Patrol; all rights, etc. belong to them.**

**Thank you to **WeAreTheShieldofInjustice, Esha Napoleon, MelinaJeff1, Extremist, BigRedMachineUK, lazy4ever, Guest, Markus, bellabea, **and **HARDY IS SEXY **for reviewing! And all of you who are still reading for reading! Yay! Hugs for all! PEACE!**

* * *

Chapter 28: Done With You

The bedroom was dark and silent, only broken by the occasional call of a nightbird from the cluster of woods outside the windows. Jeff lay on his back, the bedcovers bunched down around his waist, one hand tucked up behind his head. His wiry frame rose and fell as he slept, his eyes twitching slightly at whatever unseen mental imagery was playing out on the opposite side of his closed lids.

All at once, the Charismatic Enigma drew in a sudden strangled breath, sucking air between his teeth with a sibilant hiss, his emerald irises flying open and darting over the shadowy contours of the room. For a few moments, he remained where he was, rigid as a board, the pounding in his ears drowning out the ambient nocturnal stillness as he struggled to catch his breath.

He had been sound asleep, dreaming - of what, he was no longer sure; the particulars had already melted away into the bottomless ether of abstraction - when this _feeling_ had swept over him; this sensation of panic and unease that was acute, absolute, and utterly petrifying. He wasn't sure if it was a product of the dream, or some part of his subconscious mind bleeding out into his awareness - either way, the emotion had been enough to yank the Rainbow-Haired Warrior back into the waking world, leaving him panting and slick with icy sweat, his muscles tense and tight with a fear that seemed to have no source.

Gradually, as the seconds ticked by into minutes, some of Jeff's paralysis eased, and he was able to turn his head to the side enough to make out the glowing green numbers on his alarm clock:

_3:09 AM._

The Charismatic Enigma sighed, reaching up to cover his face with both hands. The initial surge of anxiety was subsiding, but his chest still felt constricted, and his body's internal thermometer seemed to be out of order; he felt hot and cold at the same time. Groaning quietly and squeezing his eyes shut once more, the younger Hardy brother rolled over onto his side, reaching out blindly with one arm for Melina, hoping that the nearness and warmth of the Dominant Diva would drive away these unwarranted sensations festering inside him.

Instead of the slender form of the paparazzi princess, however, his fingers met only the soft texture of his flannel sheets. Jeff frowned, opening his eyes a crack. Melina's side of the bed was vacant, the comforter and sheets thrown back. The Rainbow-Haired Warrior sat up, pushing back his multi-hued locks with both hands as he looked around the room. "Melina?"

No answer greeted his tentative whisper. The Charismatic Enigma waited for a moment or two, then extricated his body from beneath the sheets, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, the hard wood floor boards cold beneath his bare feet as he stood up.

His first thought was that the Dominant Diva had merely gone to the bathroom, but a quick glance in that direction showed that the door was open and the space beyond it dark and vacant. He looked further down the corridor, but the other rooms on the second floor were dim and silent as well.

The younger Hardy paused at the top of the stairs, biting back a jaw-cracking yawn. grabbing onto the newel post as he rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand, As he did, his gaze fell on the open expanse of the living room area below him, the bluish-white glow of moonlight illuminating his hodgepodge assortment of furniture - and a very familiar figure sitting on the sofa.

In spite of his fatigue, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior still felt a slow smile slip reflexively over his face at the sight of the paparazzi princess. Holding onto the bannister for support, he made his way down the steps, crossing the living room and closing the distance between himself and Melina, reaching out to gently grasp her shoulder. "Hey, princess."

Even thought his approach hadn't been exactly silent, Melina still jumped a little at his touch, a startled gasp escaping her lips as she looked up at him. With her knees tucked up against her chest, her slim body dwarfed by the folds of his zip-up sweatshirt - although Jeff had officially bequeathed it to her, claiming that she looked much better in it than he did - and her face scrubbed clean of makeup, she seemed oddly childlike. "Hey," the Dominant Diva exclaimed breathlessly. She shrugged, the movement a trifle sheepish. "Sorry - I couldn't sleep."

"Hmm..." Jeff slid his hand up along the curve of her neck, caressing her cheek with the backs of his fingers, feeling that familiar heated rush of love and desire as the paparazzi princess leaned into his touch with a soft sigh. "Something on your mind?"

The paparazzi princess bit her lip pensively, ducking her head, her reddish-brown tresses tumbling forward and hiding her face. "No..." she whispered. Then, a beat or two later, in an even quieter tone of voice: "_Yes..._"

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior vaulted neatly over the back of the sofa, easing himself down onto the cushion. Melina immediately snuggled closer, nestling her body in the curve of his, and Jeff wrapped his arm around her shoulders, holding her against his chest. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, breathing in the clean scent of her hair. "Talk to me."

Melina was mute for a long time, and when she finally did speak, her tone was slow and measured, as though she was choosing each word with care before uttering it. "This week...here, with you...has been amazing - like...I can't even describe how amazing it's been."

Jeff didn't blame her inability to articulate; he had been feeling very much the same way. When he had first made the offer, he hadn't really known what to expect from the Dominant Diva's visit, but ever since the two of them had arrived on Tuesday afternoon, it was uncanny how quickly and easily they had slipped into the roles of a cohabiting couple, as though they had been living together for years.

There was nothing particularly thrilling about their daily routine - they made dinner together, went jogging on the paths running through the surrounding woods, argued over little things like who got the bathroom first or whose turn it was to do the dishes - but it never felt _boring_ or _ordinary_; it never felt like anything other than _right_.

And in his opinion, all the excitement in the world could never compare to just seeing Melina smile, or laugh, or say _I love you, you goofball _and knowing that it was _real_.

The paparazzi princess went on. "All I want...is to stay here with you." She hesitated again, her voice cracking as a single sorrowful note crept into it. "But I can't have that...can I? Eventually, I'll have to go back...back to that world. I'll have to look-" Melina faltered, her mouth moving as she tried to force out the syllables of her former boyfriend's name. "-_him_ in the eye...and tell him that it's over."

She drew in a deep shuddering breath, and the Charismatic Enigma looped his arm tighter around her petite frame. Melina clung to him, gripping his bicep with both hands, her fingers sinking into his tree root tattoo as though she was trying to anchor herself more firmly to him. She pressed her face into his chest, and Jeff felt her hot tears soak into the fabric of his shirt.

"He won't let me go," The Dominant Diva's voice was dull and miserable. "Not without a fight - his pride won't allow it. Once he finds out...about you and me - and he _has _to suspect _something _by now; there's no _way_ that he _can't_ - he'll want revenge."

She lifted her head up, staring at the younger Hardy brother, the moonlight's faint radiance unable to mask the heartbroken expression etched across her beautiful features. "He's _obsessed_ with you, and not because of me. I think...deep down...Johnny really believes that just because he's good-looking and talented, he'll get whatever he wants, and when you _refused_...when you _wouldn't_ quit, you _wouldn't _stay down - you _got _to him, in a way no one else _could_ before."

Melina exhaled slowly, gnawing on the edge of her lower lip. "Johnny may act like nothing more than a spoiled little kid - but he's dangerous...and he's losing it...and once he knows about _us, _it'll push him over the edge-"

Jeff dipped his head down, tenderly kissing the paparazzi princess's forehead. "I won't let him hurt you-"

"But what about _you_?" the Dominant Diva interjected. Her cheeks were wet with tear stains. "It _kills_ me to see you get hurt now - it took everything I had just to keep it together during that ladder match - and if Johnny _knows_ that, he will _use _it." She paused, then added bitterly. "I should know - I was the one who taught him how."

Melina let go of his arm, reaching up to touch the Rainbow-Haired Warrior's face. "It's one thing...for him to hit me - but if he hurt _you_ to get to _me_...I'd never forgive myself-"

"Don't worry about me," the younger Hardy brother cut in forcefully. "I can handle that asshole-"

"You don't _know_ him!" the paparazzi princess cried. "Not even _I _know him anymore, and if _I _don't..." She let the thought trail off into silence, unable to vocally acknowledge what they both feared - that not even _she_ knew how to defuse the walking time bomb that Johnny Nitro had become.

Melina leaned closer to Jeff, until her forehead touched his. "Please..." the Dominant Diva murmured. "Just...be careful."

Her plea became a soft surprised gasp as Jeff sealed her lips with his, wrapping both arms tighter around her body. "Don't worry," the Charismatic Enigma whispered when they eventually broke apart for air. "After Survivor Series...after this match...it's over. Okay?" He held her face in both of his hands, his emerald irises fastened onto her dark ones. "It's over, and you won't have to have anything more to do with him."

Melina stared at him wordlessly for several long moments before her full lips quivered and parted, voicing the one question that Jeff unfortunately did not have an answer to:

"Then why do I keep thinking that something bad is going to happen?"

* * *

_**Is he worth all this, is it a simple yes?**_

'_**Cause if you have to think, it's fucked**_

_**Feels like you loved him more than he loved you**_

_**And you wish you'd never met...**_

Melina ran down the cluttered arena hallway as fast as she dared in her stiletto-heeled boots. Her and Jeff's flight from North Carolina to Philadelphia had been delayed, so it had been a mad dash from the airport to the Wachovia Center. The Survivor Series pay-per-view was already in progress when they had arrived, and the Dominant Diva had barely finished getting dressed before a production assistant knocked on the door to summon her to gorilla.

Part of her was grateful for the unexpected tardiness - her mad adrenalized dash to prepare had left her almost no time to dwell on the dreaded chore awaiting her - but another part of her was uneasy. She'd had no contact with Nitro since the previous week - she didn't know what kind of mood he was in, what he was thinking, feeling; what he had merely conjectured, and what he knew for certain...only that, with each passing second, he was becoming more and more unstable.

Melina had always bragged about her acting ability, but she was heading into a situation where she didn't know all the variables - right now, she felt less like the star, and more like an understudy who's been handed a script with missing pages and shoved out onstage.

Her only recourse, then, was to do what she had always done - _fake it_. Swallow her disgust and her loathing, force a sneer onto her face, and go through the motions one more time knowing that it would be the last; that once she stepped back through those black curtains, she would never have to play the role of Johnny Nitro's girlfriend _ever again_.

The paparazzi princess turned the final corner before the gorilla area - and promptly ran smack into someone barreling out of it from the opposite direction. Melina reeled, grabbing onto the wall for support, her ankles wobbling dangerously as she struggled to regain her footing.

The Dominant Diva snapped her head back, flicking a red-and-brown ringlet back from her face with one manicured fingernail. "_Excuse me_-" she snarled, the invective immediately dying in her throat when she saw exactly _who_ she had just collided with.

Maria reared back, pressing one hand against her ample chest, her expression fixed in that typical clueless _Oh my gosh_ expression of hers. "Holy crap!" the backstage reporter babbled. "Are you all right? I totally didn't see you-"

"It's fine," Melina replied faintly. She could feel all the color draining from her face, and through the rushing sound in her ears, she heard Ashley's voice, admonishing and relentless-

_Did it ever occur to you...that Maria's sitting at home all by herself, knowing that her boyfriend's pulling away from her, and wondering what she did to make him act that way?..._

_ ...And that's fucked-up...because, out of everyone...she's the ONE person who didn't do anything wrong..._

The paparazzi princess swallowed hard, forcing saliva down a throat that had inexplicably become bone dry. "I...I'm sorry," she added, somewhat lamely, and wondered if Maria knew that she was apologizing for so much more than just almost knocking her flat.

"Oh, that's okay!" the backstage reporter chirped, flashing one of her ditzy beaming smiles. Tossing her brown hair over one shoulder, she turned to go - but as she did, Melina thought she saw _something_ in the depths of the other Diva's emerald irises; a hint of a cold, intelligent, _reptilian_ awareness that didn't quite mesh with her bubbly, likable demeanor...

...and for just a moment, an _instant_, the Dominant Diva wondered if Maria Kanellis was really as clueless _or _as innocent as she seemed to be...

The moment passed, however, and Melina gave herself a brisk shake, dashing the rest of the way to gorilla. As usual, the small backstage area was packed with people, and the paparazzi princess maneuvered deftly through the crush of bodies, her pace slowing and her heart grinding to a halt within her chest when she saw the figure in the silver fur coat and designer shades standing next the black curtained entrance.

Unconsciously, the Dominant Diva began to make a check of her appearance - smoothing down her black leather corset and short black skirt, fluffing her reddish-brown ringlets, touching the corners of her mouth to make sure her lipstick hadn't smeared - but she was barely aware of doing so; all of her attention, all of her _focus_, was on the man in front of her; a man who, only a few months ago, she had loved...and now despised.

Taking a deep breath and planting one hand on her hip, Melina sauntered over to where Nitro stood, stopping at his side, but not saying anything. Beyond the black curtain, she could hear the ecstatic screams of the fans, occasionally drowned out by Triple H's roars as he went through the D-X introduction - but both were barely audible over the thunderous pounding of her own heart.

The former Intercontinental Champion shot a brief, disinterested glance in her direction - then a longer probing look when he realized who had joined him. Melina tilted her chin up haughtily, keeping her gaze neutral and fastened on the folds of the curtains, trying not to flinch as Nitro's icy hiss invaded her ears: "Where have you _been_?"

The paparazzi princess glanced at him without really looking at him, twirling a lock of hair around her index finger as she tried to sound nonchalant. "My flight was-"

"_No_!" Without warning, the former Intercontinental Champion grabbed her arm, whirling her around and forcing her to face him. Melina couldn't see his eyes; only her own face reflected in the dark lenses of his sunglasses, and she had to bite the inside of her lip to hold back the scream that had suddenly climbed up her throat.

Nitro leaned closer, jabbing his finger into her face, his handsome features tight and pinched with barely contained anger. "_Don't_ play games with me - you _know_ what I mean." He paused, and the Dominant Diva could almost _hear_ the sound of his teeth grinding together. "_Where...have...you...BEEN_?"

Melina couldn't move; she was too transfixed by the terrified reflection of herself, like a mouse caught in the gaze of a snake. Before she could scramble for an answer, however, the shrill guitar wail of their shared theme music cut through the gorilla area, signaling that it was time for them to make their entrance.

The paparazzi princess relaxed, hoping that her sigh of relief wasn't audible or visual. "Come on, Johnny, let's go-" She turned toward the curtains, reaching out to push them aside.

The former Intercontinental Champion, however, didn't move; nor did he relinquish his grip on her arm. The twin mirrors of his sunglasses were still trained on the Dominant Diva. "_You_...didn't answer my question." He sounded like he was speaking through clenched teeth. "I'm not going _anywhere_...and neither are _you..._until you give me an answer."

For one long agonizing second, Melina didn't know what to do - and then, out of nowhere, like the instinctive recognition you feel when you hop on a bike for the first time in years, the habitual conceit kicked in, and the paparazzi princess flicked her gaze upward, fixing her boyfriend-in-name-only with a withering look. "Are you serious?" she asked sarcastically. "You'd forfeit a _Survivor Series match_...just to wait on an answer from me?" She brought her hands together in a sarcastic show of applause. "Oh, brilliant. Just _brilliant_, Einstein."

Nitro flinched, his initial rage already starting to evaporate beneath the relentless heat of her scorn, but the Dominant Diva wasn't finished. Shooting a quick look over her shoulder, she spied the World Tag Team Champions several feet behind them. Edge was jogging briskly in place, while Randy was merely staring off into space in that vacant sociopathic way of his.

Melina rolled her eyes back toward Nitro, shaking her head. "I'm sure your team captains will _love that_-"

"_Shut up_," the former Intercontinental Champion growled. "Just..._shut up_." Before the paparazzi princess could add anything further, he grabbed her by the hand, pulling her through the curtains and practically dragging her out onto the top of the ramp. Melina's insides gave a sickly lurch, but she forced herself not to show it, forced her features into their customary countenance of contemptuous disdain, all the while chanting in the back of her mind:

_Just a few minutes more, and you'll be rid of him...just a few minutes more, and you won't have to fake it..._

_ Just a few minutes more..._

* * *

Jeff stood on the edge of the ring apron, holding onto the rope with both hands, ready to tag in should the need arise. His emerald irises were glued to the fighting forms of his Survivor Series teammate CM Punk and the self-proclaimed A-lister - but it was taking everything he had not to shift them a tad lower; to disregard the match and focus instead on the figure at the opposite side of the ring.

When Nitro's music had hit, and the former Intercontinental Champion had emerged at the top of the ramp with his beautiful manager in tow, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior had experienced a dizzying sensation of _deja vu_, and for one petrifying moment, he almost thought that this match was destined to play out the same way as the night he lost the Intercontinental title.

However, the feeling dissipated just as rapidly as it had emerged, and as the A-list approached the ring, Jeff could see plainly the difference in the demeanor of the Dominant Diva. There was a fearful reluctance in her, as though she was walking on eggshells and trying not to show it, and despite the haughtiness of her expression, it didn't quite extend to her dark eyes, which remained glued to the younger Hardy brother whenever Nitro's back was turned.

He and the self-proclaimed A-lister had squared off early in the bout, but not for long - while Jeff would have been content to beat Johnny Nitro senseless until the end of time, he had four other teammates relying on him, and with his body still not at a hundred percent after that hellacious ladder match, he knew that he needed to conserve as much of himself as possible.

Besides - as he soon found out - it was just as satisfying _watching_ the former Intercontinental Champion get the absolute shit kicked out of him.

In the ring, Punk looped his arm around Nitro's neck, running toward the center of the canvas and dropping the self-proclaimed A-lister with a bulldog. The crowd roared with excitement, and Jeff didn't blame them - for a rookie, the ECW Superstar was proving himself more than capable of hanging with the big dogs. Punk jumped to his feet, reaching down to pull Nitro up; the Charismatic Enigma followed the downward motion of his arm - but instead of settling on the groaning form of the former Intercontinental Champion, his gaze fell on the Diva standing just outside the squared circle.

Melina's attention was - obligingly - fixed on Nitro, one slender hand gripping the bottom rope, but almost as though she could sense the Rainbow-Haired Warrior's eyes on hers, she looked up, her dark irises meeting his green ones across the expanse of canvas. Jeff's mouth curved up in a half-smile, and he winked at her. The Dominant Diva immediately ducked her head, but the younger Hardy brother still saw a blush spreading across her cheeks that was almost the same hue as her hair.

In the back of his mind, he knew that he should stop there - the two of them were already tempting fate just making eye contact - but Jeff couldn't help himself; sometimes, you don't know you're going to crash until you're already in free-fall. Puckering his lips together, he blew the paparazzi princess a kiss from across the ring.

This time, Melina couldn't bite back the smile that touched her lips; a slow, achingly sweet smile that was so incongruous to the customary countenance of her heel persona. She looked up, her eyes locking onto him - and then all of a sudden, her smile evaporated, her complexion turning ashen as a look of utter horror materialized on her beautiful features.

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior froze, his own grin fading. Following the line of her gaze upward, he realized with a heart-stopping shock that Nitro was staring at him. _Right_ at him. With a look of hatred so intense Jeff could almost feel the heat of it lapping against his skin like flames.

The former Intercontinental Champion strode toward his nemesis, disregarding Punk, disregarding his teammates on the opposite corner, as though he had forgotten about everything save both of them. Reaching out, he grabbed the younger Hardy brother by a fistful of his multi-toned hair, jerking him closer, spitting out words in a tone so soft only the two of them could have heard it:

"You fucking junkie - did you think you could fuck _my _girl and get away with it?" Nitro leaned even nearer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You're gonna pay for embarrassing me...and so is she."

Jeff's emerald irises narrowed, and before he was entirely cognizant of what he was doing, he grabbed Nitro's head, whirling around and dropping the self-proclaimed A-lister onto the top rope with a Twist of Fate. Nitro, gagging, staggered backward - right into the ready arms of his ECW opponent, who immediately used the former Intercontinental Champion's disorientation to drop him and lock in his finisher, the Anaconda Vise.

Immediately, Nitro waved his free arm frantically in a tapping motion, and referee Mike Chioda motioned that the self-proclaimed A-lister had indeed been eliminated from the match. The sea of fans screamed their approval, and for a few seconds, the younger Hardy brother was swept up in their elation...an emotion which soon faded as he gradually comprehended exactly what he had done.

Nitro was no longer in the match, which meant that he would have to head back to the backstage area.

And wherever Johnny Nitro went, _Melina_ went.

Which meant that, until Jeff got eliminated or until his team won the bout, he was more or less stuck out here - while the woman would be backstage in the clutches of an unstable, violent man.

A man who knew she had been unfaithful. Who had promised to hurt her.

And who would do anything within his power to carry out that promise.

Jeff covered his face with his hands, his expression twisting into an anxious grimace as he spat out one single syllable in a panicked moan:

"_Shit_!"

* * *

_**And in one little moment**_

_**It all implodes**_

_**But this isn't everything you are...**_

As soon as the pair burst through the curtains into the gorilla area, Melina tried to extricate herself from Nitro's grip, hoping to achieve at least a modicum of distance between them before the active volcano seething inside the former Intercontinental Champion erupted. However, almost as though he had sensed her intentions, the self-proclaimed A-lister merely tightened his hold on her arm, his fingers clamping down with such force that Melina was certain the bone would shatter.

The Dominant Diva cried out, but Nitro ignored her squawk of pain and indignation; instead, he shouldered his way bodily through the crowd of production personnel and Superstars, moving out of gorilla and back into the labyrinthine cluster of hallways beyond it, dragging the paparazzi princess along behind him with the same care and concern one shows an oversized piece of luggage.

"Johnny, what-" Melina tried to say, but that was the most she was able to get out - now that they were out of the crush of bodies, Nitro's pace had increased to a furious rate, and her only options were to jog after him or risk having her arm pulled right out of the socket. Besides, she doubted very much that her words would have had any effect - the feeling of Nitro's hand clamped over her arm like a manacle was proof enough that the former Intercontinental Champion was beyond _words_.

And if he was beyond _those_...then what chance could she possibly have of stopping him?

The self-proclaimed A-lister halted abruptly, simultaneously swinging Melina around and shoving her forward. The Dominant Diva went flying, stumbling out of her red stiletto heels, her forward progress coming to a sudden end as she slammed hip-first into an equipment crate.

Instantly, pain flared outward, rocketing up her torso and down her leg all the way to the ankle. For a few moments, the paparazzi princess remained where she was - too stunned to move, or even _think_ - before pulling herself up, grabbing onto the crate and the wall behind for support as she stared at her former boyfriend with a combination of incredulity and fear. "Are you _insane_?" she gasped. "What the _hell_-"

Whatever she had intended to say next was immediately rendered irrelevant as the self-proclaimed A-lister stormed toward her, balling his hand into a fist and driving it full-force into her abdomen.

All the air was expelled from Melina's body with a shocked explosive _PAH_. The Dominant Diva collapsed to one knee, all eloquence and articulation deserting her in the wake of pure exquisite agony. Vomit climbed up her throat, filling her mouth with its disgusting acrid taste, and it took all of her remaining awareness just to keep herself from puking onto the floor in front of her.

Nitro, meanwhile, continued to loom over her, his hand still molded into a hard knot of muscle and bone; with the other, he raked his highlighted hair back from his face, its handsome features fixed in an expression of crazed fury, the breath tearing out of him in rapid animalistic pants.

His voice, when he finally did speak, was rough with contempt and rage: "_You...stupid...WHORE_! Did you _honestly_ think that I wouldn't find out? About you...and-and _him_?" The former Intercontinental Champion practically spat out the final word.

Melina didn't answer, mainly because she was still physically incapable of doing so. She couldn't breathe - her body felt as though it had been vacuum sealed shut - and her head was starting to spin from the lack of oxygen, filling her vision with bright spots of color. Her abdomen was a hard throbbing node of pain. Letting out a soft strangled sound that was too weak to really be classified as anything at all, the paparazzi princess groped blindly for the edge of the equipment crate, trying to regain enough control over her motor functions to pull herself to her feet.

The self-proclaimed A-lister, meanwhile, had begun to pace back and forth, running both hands through his hair as he went on. "I mean, I _know_ that I fucked up, that you wanted to punish me for sleeping around - but _come on_! Were you really _so desperate_ for revenge that you had to stoop to screwing _Jeff Hardy_?"

He glanced at Melina for a reply, but there was none. The Dominant Diva was still hunched over, one hand pressed against her abdomen, sucking air in with swallow, hesitant breaths. Nitro's features darkened with wrath, and he grabbed a handful of her reddish-brown curls, yanking her bodily up to her feet and slamming her against the wall. "_Did you enjoy it_?" the former Intercontinental Champion roared. "Did you enjoy _humiliating_ me? _How could you do this to me_?"

Still holding onto her hair, he shook her, the way one shakes a small dog. "_Answer me-_"

The paparazzi princess let out a laugh; a bitter, hollow sound that was more like a cough. Her arms hung limply at her sides, her eyes were almost closed - only her full lips moved as she spoke, her voice soft, but dripping with vitriol. "You...you...you - it's _always_ about _you_...isn't it?"

She laughed again, and this time, Nitro heard a distinct mocking peal echoing through it. "_You poor dumb bastard_."

Melina's eyes abruptly flew open, and the self-proclaimed A-lister released his hold on her hair, actually taking an involuntary step back at the sight of the unadulterated hatred burning in his girlfriend's gaze. Inhaling as deep a breath as she dared, the Dominant Diva drew herself up, pushing her petite frame off the wall and taking one cautious unsteady step forward, never taking her focus off her former boyfriend as she spoke: "_This_...had _nothing_ to do with you. It never did. I slept with Jeff because I _wanted_ to-"

She hesitated, then continued, her tone brimming with unmistakable tenderness: "-because...I _love_ him."

Stunned surprise flitted across the former Intercontinental Champion's features, momentarily erasing the anger, making him appear like the lost little boy that - deep within the innermost chamber of his heart - he still was. "No..." Nitro whispered, his voice cracking slightly. "No...you don't! You _can't_!"

Without warning, he grabbed her by the upper arms, shaking her once more, peering into her face with a desperation that was both comical and tragic. "You don't love him - you love _me_!" the self-proclaimed A-lister babbled. "You always have-"

He stopped, his lower lip actually trembling. "Don't do this, Mel." Nitro's voice had dropped to a pleading murmur. "_Please_. I _need_ you-"

"_Need_ me?" Melina repeated scornfully. "_You_ need _me_? Why? Because you _love_ me...or because you can't win a match without my help?"

As soon as she uttered that last sentence, the former Intercontinental Champion went stock-still, his face flushing a dark mottled red. "You..._bitch_!" he snapped. "You really _are_ as dumb as you look! All I've done is give you everything you've ever wanted!"

He brought one hand up, ticking items off on his fingers. "You wanted jewelry? I buy you the biggest rock in the store. You want to party? I take you to the hottest clubs. You want a _winner_, I become the _Intercontinental Champion_-"

"_Former_ Intercontinental Champion," the paparazzi princess shot back.

Nitro's frown deepened. "Yeah, thanks to _you_." he hissed hatefully.

Melina tilted her chin up, her upper lip curling in disgust. "_You're welcome_." she retorted.

At this, the self-proclaimed A-lister's face twitched as another tremor of fury swept over his countenance. He leaned closer, until their faces were almost touching; the Dominant Diva could see a small vein throbbing up near his temple. "_My point," _Nitro went on, his voice dangerously soft. "is that _you_ wanted the spotlight, so _I _gave it to you. But now - you're telling me that, after all I've done, it's not enough? That you'd rather throw it all away just so you can shack up with some...burned-out _loser_? That I'm not _good enough_ for you anymore?" He gestured at himself. "_Me_? Not good enough for a fucking _slut_ like you?" He punctuated this statement with a hard shove, knocking the paparazzi princess back against the wall.

Melina felt another haze of pain float over her as her body met the unyielding cinderblock, bringing involuntary tears to her eyes. She blinked them back as best she could, meeting the former Intercontinental Champion's gaze without flinching, shaking her head slowly. "I don't...expect you to understand-"

"_Understand_?" Nitro echoed disdainfully. "Oh, I _understand_ perfectly! I _understand_ that you wanted to make me suffer, so you jumped on the dick of the first guy who showed you the slightest bit of attention, and now you think that you can just walk away and leave me behind after _everything _we've been through?"

Grabbing her wrists, he forced them up against the wall on either side of her head, jamming his face into hers, his voice dropping to an insidious whisper. "You _really_ think that that junkie _cares_ about you?" He let out a scornful humorless laugh to emphasize his point. "The only thing that he cares about is keeping that Intercontinental title on his shoulder, and he _knows _that the only place you're of _any _use is either outside a wrestling ring or _on your knees_!"

The self-proclaimed A-lister moved in closer, dipping his head down until his mouth was next to her ear. "I'm going to hurt him." This statement, uttered in such a flat uninflected tone of voice, sent a chill rippling through the paparazzi princess.

Nitro went on, his tone casual, as though he was merely suggesting where they might have dinner after the show. "I'm going to make him suffer. I'm going to _break him down_ and take back _my_ title. And once I do that - once he sees for himself just how _worthless_ you are-"

The former Intercontinental Champion smiled, and it was awful. "_Well then_, I guess you'll be exactly what you were when I first met you - _nothing_."

Melina couldn't speak at first; she could only stare wordlessly at the self-proclaimed A-lister, wondering how they had ended up here, wondering what had happened to the sweet charming guy who had stolen her heart in OVW to turn him into the cold-hearted bastard standing in front of her.

_Well, that's no surprise..._the irritating little voice chirped up, its tone faintly patronizing. _Johnny was a ruthless competitor even back then...but YOU'RE the one who REALLY taught him to be cruel... _

But the Dominant Diva knew it was more than that, more than the underhanded deeds from their developmental and SmackDown days. There was something _inside_ Nitro - a dark twisted shadow of malice and appetite. Perhaps it had been spawned during the former Intercontinental Champion's title reign, perhaps it had always been there, lurking in the seemingly shallow depths of his psyche - either way, it had fed off of his arrogance and his success, lying dormant and complacent...until the night of Cyber Sunday, when it had finally lashed out.

Looking back, the paparazzi princess pondered how she could have believed even for a second that Nitro could be redeemed - after all, you can't close Pandora's Box once it's been opened. The self-proclaimed A-lister had tasted cruelty and found that he liked it, and the ugliness was fully a part of him now.

And if she hoped to make it out of this hallway in one piece, she would have to accept the heart-breaking fact that _Johnny_ - _her_ Johnny - was gone, possibly forever, leaving only this vicious monster in front of her.

Melina shook her head, her reddish-brown ringlets bouncing limply against her cheeks. "Not _everyone_...is like _you_, Johnny." Her voice was dead and hollow, and despite being pinned against the wall, she managed to draw herself up a little. "Jeff wouldn't do that to me-"

"Oh, _really_?" Nitro drawled sarcastically. He cocked his head to the side, his eyes bright with malevolence. "_Why not_?"

"Because he _loves me_!" the Dominant Diva shot back.

It was as though she had just spat in his face - Nitro flinched, his mask of rage cracking just enough to reveal a flash of very real pain. _So the monster has a heart after all..._Melina thought, but the notion gave her no satisfaction. The former Intercontinental Champion released his hold on her wrists, backing away, as though her words were weapons that he needed to take cover from.

Melina took a step toward him, then another, enough so that the self-proclaimed A-lister could see that she _wasn't _cowering, she _wasn't_ backing down. She was afraid, but she was also angry - she could feel it flowing through her veins like liquid heat, infusing her with a new sort of power.

It was dangerous, this anger - the last time she had unleashed it, it had earned her a backhand - but the paparazzi princess didn't care, because she was tired of being stepped on and used, tired of the lies and the phony smiles and the cowardice...tired of clinging to this shallow phony imitation of a life for the sake of her career.

She was so. Fucking. Tired.

"He loves me," the Dominant Diva reiterated. "for _me_. He doesn't _need_ me to win his matches or help him keep his title - the only thing he _needs_ is for me to love him as he loves me. And I do..._I do_."

Melina took another shaky step forward, her mouth stretching into a bitter, triumphant smile. "And you _won't_ beat him...because he's _better_ than you." The paparazzi princess threw her head back, letting loose a bitter humorless laugh, her dark eyes glittering with derision and loathing. "_That's _why you hate him so much - because deep down, you know that you'll never be even _half _the man he is-"

Nitro's fist crashed into her face, snapping her head back. Melina reeled, collapsing against the blue equipment crate. A sickening vertigo swept over her, turning the world sideways, and she could taste the coppery tang of blood in her mouth - but still the Dominant Diva's shoulders shook with laughter, the sound of it derisive and shrill with near-hysteria.

"Shut up!" The self-proclaimed A-lister's face was dark and quivering with fury. He pointed at her, his whole arm shaking with barely restrained emotion. "I swear to God, you better fucking _shut up_, or-"

"Or _what_?" the paparazzi princess interrupted contemptuously. "You'll hit me again? Snap me out of it? Show me how big a _man_ you are?" With effort, she pushed herself up, clawing her hair out of her face as she glared at her former boyfriend. "Face facts, Johnny: you're not a man - you're a _boy_; a little boy who stamps his feet and throws tantrums when he doesn't get his way."

Melina's delicate features twisted into a sneer. "You know what? I'm _glad_ you found out. I'm _glad _- because now I don't have to fake it anymore." Her voice rose in pitch and volume. "_Now_ I can tell you _to your face_ how much I _hate_ you; how just the _thought_ of you touching me makes me want to _puke_-"

Her caustic flow of words abruptly dissolved into a surprised shriek as the former Intercontinental Champion wrapped both hands around her throat, throwing her back against the wall. Melina's spine and skull met cinderblock with an ugly _SMACK_, driving the remaining air out of her, and she felt her feet leave the floor.

Nitro's handsome features pulsated with wrath, his lips pulling back from his teeth and making him appear bestial. Without loosening his hold, he leaned in, jamming his face into that of his choking girlfriend's. "I'm not a man?" he roared. "_I'm _not? I'll show you-" He squeezed harder, his thumbs pressing against her windpipe. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll _beg_ me to take you back-"

The Dominant Diva gagged, grabbing Nitro's hands with her own, trying to peel his fingers back from her neck. She couldn't scream - there wasn't enough breath left in her lungs to force the sound out - but her mouth was full of blood and the acrid taste of fear, as black spots began to flash across her vision.

And as the tendrils of unconsciousness began to reach up and drag her down into oblivion, Melina realized - with the sort of clarity that comes too late to be of any real use - that she had underestimated the monster. The look on Nitro's face the night of Cyber Sunday - as terrible as it had been, the awful truth was that it had merely been the fin in the water; a heinous but ultimately tame foreshadowing of this very moment.

The paparazzi princess's eyes rolled back into her head, and her lips moved, silently forming the words that her larynx was incapable of uttering:

_Someone...please...help me..._

"You sick _fuck_, let go of her!"

Something crashed into the two of them with all the force of a charging bull elephant, knocking them over and tearing loose Nitro's grip on Melina's neck. The Dominant Diva crashed into the edge of the equipment crate, her shoulder taking the brunt of the blow, slumping to the ground and coughing violently as air rushed back down into her lungs.

Almost immediately, she felt strong gentle hands on her shoulders, holding her up, accompanied by a voice - _Easy now...you're okay...everything's going to be okay - _that sounded as though it was coming from the end of a long hallway.

_I don't FEEL okay!_...the paparazzi princess wanted to scream, but she was too busy coughing to even consider getting the words out. Her throat was raw and aching, and no matter how deeply she inhaled, it was never enough. She felt lightheaded and sick, and part of her wanted nothing more than to lie down with her face pressed against the cool concrete until the world around her stopped pitching and heaving.

Gradually, as her choking spasms subsided, as the deafening pounding in her ears faded and sound filtered back in, she heard a new voice - Jeff's, bellowing with a fury she'd never imagined him capable of:

"I'll fucking _kill you_, motherfucker! Hey! Get off me! Let me _go_!"

Melina opened her eyes just in time to see Matt and CM Punk bodily haul the Charismatic Enigma off of Nitro, who was now lying prone, his booted feet kicking weakly for purchase. Jeff struggled violently in their grip, his emerald irises blazing with wrathful fire - it was clear that he wasn't finished exacting punishment on the former Intercontinental Champion.

Pressing one hand to her chest - which currently felt like there was a ten-pound weight sitting on it - the Dominant Diva turned toward the source of the hands holding her up, and found herself looking into the warm sympathetic gaze of Shawn Michaels, who merely smiled and gave her shoulder a quick squeeze.

Another figure moved in front of her - for being so deserted a minute ago, this hallway was certainly filling up with bodies quickly - and Melina recognized it as the imposing figure of Triple H. The Game cast an almost cursory glance at the mewling self-proclaimed A-lister before stepping nonchalantly over his sprawled legs and reaching out to grab the Rainbow-Haired Warrior's shoulder, giving him a solid brisk shake. "Hardy! Hardy, look at me!" Jeff obeyed, albeit reluctantly, his green eyes shooting sullen sparks. "He's not worth it, okay?"

A low moan floated upward from Nitro. The Cerebral Assassin glanced at the former Intercontinental Champion with an expression of faint annoyance, as if to say: _Would you keep it down back there? I'm trying to talk..._ before looking back at his Survivor Series teammate. "There's no reason you should take the heat for giving some asshole exactly what he deserves."

Triple H drew his hand back, cracking his knuckles one by one, a slow, vaguely sinister smile spreading across his bearded face. "So...what do you want us to do with him?"

"Hey, man..." Grabbing onto the wall, Nitro gingerly pulled himself up to one knee. The Charismatic Enigma had gotten a few good shots in - there was blood leaking from his nose and mouth, and the skin around his left eye was already beginning to swell.

The self-proclaimed A-lister looked around, perhaps noticing for the first time that the odds were most assuredly _not_ in his favor, and Melina saw him blanch a few shades paler beneath his spray-on tan. "Hey, listen..." Nitro stammered, holding out both hands in a placating gesture. "I don't want any trouble - _this_ has _nothing_ to do with you-"

"If I were you," the Game interrupted, his tone considerably more frosty than it had been a moment ago. "I would shut my fucking mouth before I ended up spending the rest of my life drinking my meals through a straw." He glanced over at the paparazzi princess as he said this, and Melina could feel the menace radiating from his implied threat. "If there's one thing I can't stand, it's pricks like you who get their rocks off by hitting girls."

Nitro paled even more, and he quickly snapped his mouth shut. The Cerebral Assassin looked back at the Rainbow-Haired Warrior questioningly. "Well, Hardy?"

For what seemed like an eternity, there was nothing; only the tense silence of indecision - and then finally Jeff stirred, wrenching his arms free and massaging his shoulder. His features had closed down into a cold stolid mask of animosity. "Let him go," the younger Hardy brother spat, his tone just as unemotional as his countenance. "Like you said - he's not worth it."

He took a step toward Nitro, and the former Intercontinental Champion scrambled to his feet, tottering a little, holding up his fists in a fighting stance. Jeff only stared at him, his green eyes narrowing to small dangerous slits. "But if you lay so much as a finger on her again - I'll kill you. Understand?"

Without waiting for an answer, he turned his back on the self-proclaimed A-lister, his gaze falling onto the petite figure of the bruised and trembling Raw Diva. Instantly, the Charismatic Enigma's face softened with love and concern and he closed the distance between them, dropping to his knees and pulling Melina into his arms. The paparazzi princess wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him, her tiny body shaking as she - finally - began to cry.

Nitro watched them, his muscular frame trembling, his expression a curious mixture of outrage and disbelief. "You think this is over? It's not over!" He stormed toward the couple, his forward progress halted by the Game, who stepped in front of them like a human wall, shielding them from the former Intercontinental Champion.

However, that didn't stop Nitro from poking his head around Triple H's shoulder, his eyes glaring daggers at the embracing pair. "You hear me, you worthless _cunt_?" At this, the Dominant Diva shrank a little. The self-proclaimed A-lister pointed at them, his index finger stabbing the air like a knife. "I'll make you pay - _both_ of you-"

His vindictive diatribe abruptly ended in a started grunt as the Cerebral Assassin unceremoniously kicked him in the gut, knocking him back several feet and back down onto his ass. "Shut the _fuck_ up," Triple H commanded. "and be glad you're leaving with all of your teeth."

The former Intercontinental Champion opened his mouth yet again, thought better of it, and instead half-ran, half-crawled in the opposite direction, disappearing around a corner and out of sight.

Jeff pulled back, tenderly brushing Melina's hair back from her face, wincing when he saw the marks that Nitro had left. "Jesus Christ..." His face crumpled with remorse and guilt, and he pulled the paparazzi princess to him, pressing his lips to her forehead. "I'm so sorry, princess, I'm so sorry - I should have gone after you-"

"It doesn't matter now," Sucking in a sob, Melina held his face in both of her hands, soaking in the warmth of him like a healing balm. "He's gone...it's over."

Even as she said it, Nitro's final threat kept echoing through her skull, sending a chill through her body that not even the younger Hardy brother's embrace could banish:

_I'll make you pay..._

_ Both of you..._


End file.
